


the other side of infinity

by tielan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Infinity War Fix-It, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Fan theories, Gen, Infinity (Marvel), Infinity Gauntlet, Infinity Gems, Infinity Stone Soul World (Marvel), Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sacrifice, Soul Gem (Marvel), Trope: Against All Odds, action-adventure, infinity war fix-it, this really is my endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-10-20 10:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 84,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17620742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: On the other side of the moment, those turned to dust may no longer be 'alive', but they're damn well not helpless.This is the story of how they saved themselves.





	1. the other side of infinity

**Author's Note:**

> So. The end of the beginning and the beginning of the end! I've been working on this pretty much since I saw Infinity War. It owes its existence to many things, including my growing frustration with the MCU, my love of Maria Hill, and a number of fannish theories. I'll link to the theories once the story is fully posted.
> 
> Compliant with the events of Captain Marvel.
> 
> Sonography for Chapter 1:  
>  _Louder Than Words_ by Les Friction

The western sun on the wall was a glowing orange behind her eyes.

She was lying sprawled in bed as the sunset flamed with the smoky echo of the bushfires in the northwest state.

She was standing in the dark and empty kitchen as the sky outside burned in counterpoint to the ashes within her.

She was climbing into the SUV to the radio report of New York burning.

She was—

She was—

She was standing in the traffic chaos of a busy street, staring at her hand as it flaked and crumbled to dust—

She _wasn’t_.

“Maria.”

Maria opened her eyes and jerked up into a sitting position, wakefulness rushing in. Her eyes flew to the hand she lifted in front of her – whole and uncrumbling.

She was alive.

Darkness moved beyond her hand as Fury crouched down, his eye steady on her. The light from the orange sky cast his features in harder accents, highlighting the flare of sheer relief she saw in his expression before it veiled to brusque concern.

“You okay?”

She only registered the hand on her shoulder when he lifted it. The grip was real. _She_ was real, not fluttered to ashes and dust... 

“What just happened—?” She began to look around and stopped.

Water surrounded them – at least it looked like water – a shimmering, rippling surface that stretched out as far as the eye could see. But it wasn’t wet – it didn’t drip – it was just...there, reflecting them and the endless orange sky in a perfect mirror.

Maria stared at the sky – a perfect dome of muted orange, even and empty.

“Yeah,” Fury said as he turned glanced up at the sky. “I got a feeling that those bogies over Wakanda were bad news. Should have called for help sooner.”

“Nobody was answering—” Maria paused as the air nearby shifted, like a wind had just eddied. “T’Challa—”

Like a fog blown away by a sudden hard gust of wind, one moment there was nobody but her and Nick, the next, there were Wakandans – hundreds of them, so it seemed, clustering around the black-and-vibranium-clad figure of the Black Panther.

Maria scrambled to her feet, pulling Nick up behind her. He didn’t complain at her assistance, didn’t knock her hand away, just stood up with a grunt and what she’d have sworn was a creak of bones.

The Wakandan King turned towards them, frowning slightly. “General Fury? Commander Hill? You are here, also?”

“Apparently.” Fury eyed the Wakandan warriors. “Who invaded Wakanda?”

“Thanos, seeking the Mind-stone of the android Vision.” T’Challa tapped his forehead. “Captain Rogers and the Avengers came with him after another attempt to acquire the stone failed. They sought my sister’s help to remove the stone from Vision’s head without destroying him entirely. My warriors and I rallied to buy them time, with the assistance of the Avengers and the White Wolf—”

Again, there was a ripple in the air, and a trio of people half turned from the middle of their conversation, falling into a fighting stance.

Scarlet sparks flickered from Wanda’s hands, illuminating the tear-trails still gleaming down her cheeks, and flaring across the metal chasings of Bucky Barnes’ new arm, before sputtering out in the dusty, scraped metal of Sam’s backpack.

“Maria? Fury?” Sam started towards them, his expression worried. “What are you doing here?”

“We disintegrated on a New York street,” Fury told him. “Turned up here. You?”

“Same. Except in a Wakandan forest.” Sam glanced at T’Challa, giving him a quick nod. “One minute we were fighting Thanos and his armies while Wanda was...doing her thing.”

“Killing Vision,” Wanda said. She pressed her lips together. “I was to destroy the Mind Stone so Thanos could not take it. And I did— But then, he did some kind of...thing—” She twisted her hand, and the outline of a giant scarlet glove appeared around it, one of the gems glowing. “And suddenly Vis was there, whole again, and he could just take the stone—”

“We kept fighting– he just brushed us off,” Barnes said. He hadn’t drawn in with the others, standing back a little, as though uncertain of his welcome. “Steve went in and lost. Thor, too, I think— Although there was this...moment—”

“He snapped his fingers.” Wanda brushed tears from her eyes. “Thor struck his weapon into Thanos’ chest and he staggered. Then he told Thor that he should have aimed for the arm...and he snapped his fingers.”

Sam glanced at her. “Wasn’t that what Banner said? That Thanos could destroy half the universe just like ‘that’?”

Half the universe. Her hand disintegrating on a city street.

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..._

Maria looked over at the Wakandan warriors who were already talking among themselves, drawing conclusions, staggering as the reality – or the unreality – dawned upon them.

“We lost,” she murmured, not quite believing it herself. Beside her, Nick made a noise of protest, and she looked over at him – then stared.

Beyond him, a little way out, an arc of fire was drawing itself in the air; a thickly curved line of molten sparks that was swirling into a giant arch.

A whoosh of engines heralded Sam rising into the air, even as Wanda lifted from the ground, power sparking at her fingers. A hand touched her arm, the fingers oddly hard and she flinched as Barnes gently stepped in front of her, taking on the same battle ready stance that the Black Panther had adopted as he stalked to the fore, his warriors crying out in fearsome battle chorus.

Fury was dropping to his knees, his handgun out. The position didn’t just let him avoid the two men standing; it also gave him easy access to the spare weapon in his ankle holster.

And Maria’s fingers groped at air. She’d stashed her handgun in the side compartment of the car while they were on the move, and she wasn’t carrying a spare.

Which left her the only one unarmed, standing in a battalion of fighters facing an unknown threat...

Wonderful.

_Not like the first time you’ve been an ordinary among the extraordinary, Maria. So get over your adequacy issues and face what’s coming._

_Trust your team._

They weren’t _her_ team. But they were on her side. That was enough for the moment. 

The curving arc had turned into a thick fiery circle that spun off crackling sparks as it swirled. It cycled once, twice...then the centre of the circle vanished, showing—

Another orange-tinged sky over a landscape as different to the endless fog as Wakanda was to New York.

It had been a civilisation once. Not any on Earth, unless the Wakandans had worked out how to balance enormous spheres over giant toruses, left it to run down for a couple of hundred years, and then devastated it with an asteroid shower.

Maria blinked, trying to take it all in. Something like hysteria bubbled up in her. Another planet. Another planet in another star system, probably in another _galaxy_. She’d seen the Chitauri attack New York through a wormhole, spoken with Thor about the worlds beyond Earth, asked Jane Foster innumerable questions about her one time on Asgard...

But for all that she’d heard, all that she’d seen, Maria had never been to another planet.

It was kind of intimidating. As was the man who stood on the other side, dark-haired, bearded, dressed like he’d stepped out of some kind of high fantasy book. His head was half-turned to address someone who was walking forward – someone smaller and slighter and dressed in a suit marked with webbing—

“Peter Parker?”

The teenager started at the sight of her, his eyes going wide. “Miz Hill? Uh. Hey.” His posture shifted subtly – from confident young man to abashed teen. “I guess you’re wondering what I’m doing on another planet when I’m supposed to be in school?”

Not really. The suit the boy was wearing wasn’t the sort that got made at home on a sewing machine. It had Stark Industries manufacture written all over it. Which meant Tony had somehow gotten the boy embroiled in the situation in New York and—

“You were saving the world.” Maria glanced up at the orange sky overhead. “Or trying to.”

“Can we skip the catch-up and bring them through?” The cosplay escapee looked impatient but he also seemed to be holding himself rather rigidly, and if his breathing wasn’t quite laboured there was a measured element to it. “This portal is taking more effort than usual to keep open, and they need to be brought up to speed.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” said Peter. “You guys better come through quickly. This is Doctor Stephen Strange, and his real name is, uh, _also_ his made-up name. He doesn’t like Mister Stark much, but he swapped the Time Stone for his life. Oh, and he saw the one chance in, like, fourteen million that we had to stop Thanos, and apparently this is it.”


	2. Part One: There Are Survivors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Ahsoka Leaves_ by Kevin Kiner

The planet they were on was called Titan. It turned out to be the homeworld of Thanos, the guy who’d caused half the world – half the _universe_ – to drift off into dust.

Exactly how Parker and Strange – and Stark, who was most certainly not here – ended up being on Titan was a story in and of itself, counterpoint to the story that the Avengers – Sam and Wanda and T’Challa – told, and combining with the story told by the ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ who, as it turned out, were led by a guy who’d been born in Missouri, even if he didn’t consider himself ‘from Earth’ anymore, and who’d met Thor after Thanos had attacked the Asgardians, who’d been on their way to Earth because Thor had kicked off Ragnarok and destroyed Asgard.

Maria pieced the story together as the others explained what had happened to them in a complicated tangle of words and explanations, criss-crossed interruptions, all underlaid by a note of hysteria.

Nobody could quite believe that this was happening.

Or, perhaps, they were still coming to terms with the idea that they’d not only lost the battle, but that the war was now out of their hands.

“So we have this one chance in fourteen million,” T’Challa said to Dr. Strange, his warriors and Dora Milaje shifting restlessly behind him. “I do not think you intend for us to wait for the Avengers on the other side to act. That is not the manner in which you have described this chance.”

“No,” said Strange, “I don’t intend for us to wait for the Avengers back in the real world to act.”

Something about the tone of his voice didn’t seem quite right to Maria. A little too tense, a little too cagey, perhaps. And, no, she didn’t know Strange, but Maria had spent most of her professional career around men who made a living being certain of themselves – or acting like they did. She knew the type, inside out and backwards, which included when they were lying or holding back part of the truth.

In Nick’s case, it was because he was _always_ holding back part of the truth.

“You don’t actually know what happens next,” she guessed. “You saw the one chance in fourteen-however-many-million, but you didn’t study the way there. Maybe you don’t even remember the specifics of it.”

“Wait,” said Quill, his voice rising with outrage. “You let Thanos win knowing we would _lose_?”

“I suggested we face Thanos knowing it was the only way to defeat him – the only option we had was to lose the battle to win the war,” Strange said. He sounded irritated by the questioning. “And _I_ wasn’t the one who interrupted us getting the glove off!”

“We nearly had him!” The lady with the antennae said. Maria imagined she meant to sound angry, but the impression was more like a kitten in a sulk.

“He killed Gamora! He took her away from Knowhere and killed her for the Soul Stone! I wasn’t—I couldn’t just let that _go_!”

“If we had taken the glove from Thanos then,” rumbled the big guy with the red tattooes, “he would have been defeated.” He laid a hand on Quill’s shoulder. “It was reckless and stupid...but I would have done the same thing for the honor of my love.”

Quill looked mollified, but the tree who was apparently ‘Groot’ and kept on telling everyone so rolled its – his? – eyes and muttered, _“I am Groot._ ”

“Hey,” Quill glared down at it. “Now I’ve had it up to _here_ with your sass—!”

After that, the argument between the Guardians degenerated pretty fast.

“Right,” said Nick. “So, if you don’t know what happens next, you’re running blind as the rest of us.”

“I saw the signposts, to use Ms. Hill’s analogy.” Strange shrugged. “I’ll know which way to turn when we get to the point where the decision has to be made.”

Sam shifted. “And in the meantime, we all just hang out and catch up?”

The black brows drew together and the corners of the wide mouth tightened slightly at the question. “You can do what you like,” he said. “I’m going to prepare myself for the next stage.”

“Care to share with the class what’s in this ‘next stage’? If you even know?”

Maria was accustomed to Nick’s snarkiness when he was in a corner. Strange was not. Still, he didn’t retort or retaliate, which she thought seemed uncharacteristic of him. However, if he didn’t quite swirl his cloak as he turned walked away, but there was definitely a ‘fuck you’ vibe in the flip of the hem as he turned.

“I love it when people are helpful,” Nick murmured.

Maria looked around. Everyone had begun to cluster in familiar groups. The Guardians were arguing among themselves, Wanda was doing something that cast red sparks between her hands while a fascinated Peter Parker looked on, and a small group of Wakandans were speaking intently with T’Challa while the others were standing around in small groups.

Nick turned to her. “We should work out what’s happening next and get involved at the ground level. You go collect up Parker and Maximoff. Wilson, get Barnes. I’ll have a word with the Wakandans—”

“No.”

Nick turned, his brows lifting above the old eyepatch. “No?”

It bubbled up from inside her. “We’re not doing this again, Nick. It’s game over – and we lost.”

Until she’d protested Nick’s orders, Maria hadn’t realized how much the whole situation had been stinging her soul. She’d done the right thing – over and over and over again. She’d done it because it was the right thing to do – over and over and over again. And now—Now the world had ended, and she hadn’t been able to do a thing about it, because nobody had told her it was even happening.

She was tired of doing the right thing.

Frankly, she was tired of _doing_.

Nick blinked. “Strange doesn’t seem think so—”

“But he doesn’t know either.” Maria gestured at the planet around them, magnificent and ruined. “We’re not real here. We died out in the real world. And even if we _were_ real, who’d call us?” She looked at Sam, looking like he wanted nothing more than to edge away, but unwilling to draw attention to himself. “Rhodey couldn’t even call me to say that you and the others were back.”

“There was a lot happening.”

“Like there was in Scotland? Or New York? Or Berlin or Lisbon before that?” Maria let that hang in the air before she turned back to Nick.

His expression had gone wooden, touching a nerve that Maria knew he felt, too. They were dinosaurs in the world now, old operatives with nothing behind them to lend them weight. The networks of S.H.I.E.L.D agents who’d stuck with them had grown thin and sparse and disconnected as they found employment and meaning in other areas, and what had been one of the most thorough intelligence agencies in the world had become nothing more than a skeletal framework, incapable of doing a fraction of what was needed to maintain world security – let alone holding together one of the foremost political systems in the world.

It was really no wonder the world was in such disarray.

And Nick probably felt it more strongly than she did – after all, he’d spent most of his life and his career in S.H.I.E.L.D. But Maria had stood by him when S.H.I.E.L.D went down, had stuck with World Security in spite of the difficulty and the personal and professional cost. And now the worst had happened: the Avengers had failed to save the world.

It was Nick she had to explain herself to. Not because he was her boss or because she owed him an explanation – they were far past that – but because she needed him to understand why she couldn’t keep going.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” she told him, quieter now. She had a feeling they were drawing attention, and she’d never been good at scenes. “If you want to organize people here to save the world, then that’s up to you. But I can’t – won’t. I’m done.”

“And that’s your final word?”

The words were measured and even, but Maria heard the hurt in them. He’d been betrayed so many times in the last few years, from the revelation of Pierce’s loyalties, to Steve’s takedown of S.H.I.E.L.D, to Natasha’s permanent realignment to the Avengers.

Maria was the last one standing with him.

And now she wasn’t.

“Yes.”

_You’re going, aren’t you? Just because he called you._

He’d flung the words in her face when she’d taken Nick’s call; flung her loyalties back at her, like he didn’t already know what mattered. Everything came down to choices in the end, and he’d never been pleased about hers when it came to Nick.

Maybe she should have walked away earlier, but then she’d never have known if it was for herself or because she felt pressured to choose between them. Now, at least, she could say that there was nothing riding on her leaving. No reasons for her to keep organising the fight. Nothing alive or dead in the universe to compel her.

They’d lost.

The thought was strangely freeing.

“I guess I don’t need to tell you to be careful?”

“You don’t need to.”

He heard the lean in her sentence, understood what she was saying, and just nodded. “Wilson?”

Sam hesitated, then lifted his chin. “I’ll be along in a minute.”

Nick gave another nod, and with one last hard look at Maria, he strode towards the Wakandans.

“You okay?”

Maria dragged her gaze from the figure striding away and managed a smile. “I’d apologize for causing a scene but—”

“No apology necessary. Believe it or not, I’ve seen even more awkward in the last couple of days.” At her nod of encouragement, he shrugged. “Nat and Banner.”

“Ah.”

Nat had taken Banner’s disappearance pretty hard – at least, by the Black Widow’s standards, which looked very much like indifference to everyone else. Only, from the sound of what they were saying, Banner hadn’t even been conscious for most of the last two years which complicated things a lot.

“Anyway,” Sam said. “What I wanted to ask was what you’re going to do now.”

She hadn’t thought about it. She’d just reacted to Nick’s assumption that they were going to step back into this fight and pick up like they’d never been left behind or sidelined.

An unexpected gust of wind kicked up a fine cloud of dust from the broken city’s debris. Everyone flinched, the Wakandan warriors catching at their cloaks, Sam turning his back before Wanda spread her hands wide and formed a shield that swirled the dust around them to funnel, whistling, up through the wreckage of the buildings around them.

The sunlight-like glow of the sky wavered for a moment, deepening the reddish-orange tint that cast a pall across the landscape.

_It’s a nice evening out. We could go out and look at the sky. Watch the sunset. Isn’t that what ordinary people do?_

_I don’t know._ She’d propped her chin on his shoulder. _**I’ve**_ _never done it._

As swiftly as it had risen up, the wind died down.

Maria blinked the dust from her eyelashes, then carefully swept the remainder away.

“There’ll be a few more of those as the day goes on,” Sam said. “The ground’s cooling as the sun sinks, so atmospheric change. What with this rubble creating pockets of turbulence...”

“So it’ll be a bit calmer up high?”

“Probably.” He eyed her. “You’re not going to just walk out into the middle of nowhere, are you, Maria?”

“I’m not planning suicide, Sam.” Maria looked up at the curved sweep of what had probably once been graceful buildings and were now dusty, rusty ruins. “I’m going to find higher ground – somewhere to watch the sunset.”

“And after that?”

She shrugged. “After that, we’ll see."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Enchantress_ by Thomas Bergesen

The Wakandans divided themselves up into search parties.

Maria didn’t see them go, and she didn’t go with them, although she’d been invited.

“ _We would welcome eyes that know a different paradigm to Wakanda, but understand if you have no desire to be further involved_.” The Dora Milaje who issued the invitation managed to convey both sympathy and ruefulness. “ _General Fury is a man accustomed to command, and difficult to resist in the power of his personality. A clean break is understandable._ ”

“ _I can’t_ ,” Maria told them. “ _But thanks for checking_.”

Instead, she’d found the most likely entry in a nearby structure that might lead to somewhere that would give her a vantage point, co-opting one of Sam’s guns in case she stood in need of defence.

The building had been sound enough for her to climb the interior of it, wandering up the ramps that led from space to space, through rooms which had been built for a people maybe one quarter larger than humans from Earth. There wasn’t much left – dust and rust and things that had rotted or disintegrated over time – but even the little touches inside spoke of a design aesthetic of space as art and beauty, not just function and use.

The section of the planet they’d overlooked had apparently been a parkland of some kind – before whatever war had made Titan unliveable. The ruins made it look industrial, but there were signs that it had been some kind of recreation space – the aesthetics suggested it anyway. Far down below her, the group was making camp – clearing a space around some kind of firepit structure that had Wakandans working on it.

By the time she’d reached a balcony from which she had a good vantage point Maria was a little lightheaded and more than ready to sit down.

She pulled a water bottle from the ‘supply strap’ that one of the Dora Milaje had given her – water bottle, energy bar, k-bar, and communications set – and took a long drink, waiting for the dizziness to pass. It usually did after a few minutes. Granted, this situation was far from usual, but she stood still and let herself breathe, and after a few moments, everything settled.

She’d been going to see a doctor next week, too – about the dizziness and the disorientation, and other concerns – and now...

Now, she didn’t know what was going to happen. She’d been going to rethink her future anyway; but _was_ there a future anymore?

Maybe she should have stayed—

No. She couldn’t let herself think that. She’d never questioned her choices before. Now was not the time to start. Besides, if she waffled over her decisions, she’d never get anything done.

 _You’re never going to get anything more done anyway,_ she thought to herself, grimly cynical. _You’re dead, after all—_

As definitions of hell went, this one wasn’t too far off from hers.

Pushing away such thoughts, Maria forced herself to look at the scarlet sun slowly descending across the orange-tinged sky. From this vantage point, she could see just beyond the edge of the circle of buildings to a what looked like a swathe of ‘wilderness’ – an area that hadn’t been developed but left to grow over – before more buildings were visible.

Like satellite cities, perhaps, with swathes of parkland in between?

And yet this planet had apparently been so overloaded that one of its citizens had suggested killing half the populace to even the balance? Admittedly, he _was_ known as ‘the Mad Titan’, but...lottery slaughter?

Something ‘glopped’ above her – a soft noise, but distinctive in the endless emptiness of the city, punctuated only by the distant echo of voices. She looked up, reaching for the weapon Sam had pressed into her hand before she came up here. A strand of something long and white and rope-like had attached to the building above her head, and—Oh.

With a last somersault, Peter Parker landed neatly on his feet beside her and his face cowl retracted.

“Uh...Hey, Miz Hill. I was just doing some recon and I saw you up here, and, like, I’m really sorry to interrupt when Mister Falcon said I probably should leave you alone, but I just had a question and there’s nobody else to ask. I mean, I’d have asked Mister Stark if he was here, but he’s not, and that’s kind of the problem—”

Maria held up a hand to stop him. The kid could word-vomit to equal Tony, particularly when he was nervous – also like Tony.

“What is it, Peter?”

“It’s my aunt. I’m kind of worried about her. I don’t know if what happened to me – to us – also happened to her, but I hope not. And if not, Mister Stark’s real nice, but he’s also kind of busy. He might not have time to let my aunt know...”

Notification of next of kin. This was something that Maria had foreseen – even if she’d hoped never to have to see it activated.

Technically, she didn’t have to see it activated – that was on Rhodey’s shoulders. Assuming he wasn’t somewhere around here and they just hadn’t found him yet.

“It’s okay, Peter. We – Colonel Rhodes and myself – put protocols in place to have someone inform your aunt if anything happened to you in the course of your...extracurricular work. Someone – an actual person who knows about you and your activities – will turn up on her doorstep and let her know what happened to you.”

“ _If_ they’re still around. If they know what happened to me. If there not somewhere out in this shadow-land...”

He seemed stricken for a moment, and Maria hesitated, then brushed a hand over his shoulder. She felt awkward, and probably looked it – she wasn’t very good at ‘comforting’ – but the kid wasn’t even eighteen and had been flung into a situation that people two, three, four times his age wouldn’t have coped with.

“If half the universe is gone, it’ll be obvious what’s happened to you – whether or not you were off-world trying to save Earth or not.”

“Yeah. Okay. Okay.” He straightened up a little, and set his shoulders. “I’m just...a lot has happened. But that’s good to know. Uh, thanks, Miz Hill.”

“You’re welcome.”

He half-turned to leave, then turned back. “You know, you’re not as scary as you seemed when I first met you.”

“I get that a lot,” she told him dryly and watched him grin.

“Well, it would probably help if you didn’t cultivate it.”

“Maybe that’s why I do.”

“Oh. _Oh._ ” His eyes widened, he opened his mouth to ask a question and then closed it again.

Maria nearly didn’t ask. Sheer curiosity prompted her. “What?”

He scrunched up his face. “Well, it’s just that my friend MJ does that. Like, she’s prickly when you meet her. And she can take someone out with a well-aimed comment! Ned says arguing with her is like facing a firing squad, and it kind of is. But when you get to know her, she’s smart and funny and clever and really likeable and pretty. Only Aunt May says that being pretty is a disadvantage, because men don’t take you seriously, so maybe it’s easier for MJ to be prickly first. And, uh, I have no idea where that thought was going, so, uh, I think I’m going to do a bit of recon. And get some air.”

He flung out a hand to the side and a strand of webbing shot out and attached to the nearest building. His call of “Thanks, Miz Hill!” drifted away as he leaped off the balcony and swung himself downwards towards the building, then shot out another strand, letting go of the first.

Maria watched him make his way across the alien landscape in a graceful intersection of arcs that somehow expressed the young man’s inescapable joy in his abilities.

Had she ever been that green?

Maybe once, when she was a kid, before her mother died. By age seventeen, though, her thoughts had been on simply on getting away from her dad and out of South Side. Within two months of graduating high school, she’d been in boot camp; six months later, she’d been in Kosovo.

Saving the world hadn’t been in her sights when she started in the armed forces, she’d just wanted to save herself from mouldering in a go-nowhere job. The Marines had seemed like the best of her options.

_I didn’t need to fight. I just wanted out of my life before it became a hell I couldn’t live with._

_There’s nothing wrong with that..._

_I know. I’m just pointing out that we’re not all running towards something; sometimes we’re running away from something._

That conversation had been way back at the start, back when they were in S.H.I.E.L.D. She’d gone for a late snack in the cafeteria and found herself joined by Captain America, of all people.

_Steve Rogers._

_I do work here, you know._

_Yes, but it’s still polite to introduce myself – to not just assume that everyone knows who I am._

_Is that a hint?_

_It wasn’t. But if you want to take it as one..._

_Maria Hill._

The smirk was more than a little unexpected, as was the smugness of his answer. _I know._

They’d skimmed current missions, Natasha, Tony Stark, and Nick Fury, and ended up on the topic of why she’d joined S.H.I.E.L.D in the first place.

Maria could remember the feel of the mug in her hands, the raw scent of industrial-pot coffee, and the way he’d looked at her like she was actually an interesting person. And yes, she’d known not to get swept up by that – it was Steve Rogers, for heaven’s sake, he was being _polite_ – but the warmth in her belly had different ideas. Biology could be hell at times.

A shadow flickered across the balcony and Maria glanced up, squinting until she saw the circling figure, high above the city. He banked here, swooped there, doubtless mapping out the air currents as they ebbed and flowed off the land and the city, and scanning everything below with the improved vision goggles he’d sported for the last couple of years. Maria watched him turn in lazy spirals, and wondered – not for the first time – how it would be to fly like that.

Tony had offered her a suit once, somewhat jokingly. It had been shortly after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D, when she was sorting out resources in Stark Industries and the Avengers initiative. _Maybe I should make you a suit. Pepper won’t let me give her one. And it would fit you to a tee – the Iron Woman..._ Maria had rolled her eyes and flicked a paperclip in his direction. The resources of Stark Industries meant she could get a jet anywhere she needed to go publically, and for Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D work, she could fly a Quinjet with perfect facility, and even perform some evasive manoeuvres if it became necessary.

Five years later, though, she thought about flying with a jetpack or in the Iron Man suit, about soaring like Vision or Thor, as though gravity had no bearing on your body, about moving herself with the power of her mind like Wanda...

Except it wasn’t really about flying, was it? It was about being able to _do_ something, instead of just watching other people get things done.

Like watching Sam circle in the sky, while she stood here and did nothing. Again.

_It’s rare to find you sitting down, Commander._

_My job is mostly sitting, Captain._

_I mean, sitting and relaxing. I don’t think I know_ _**anyone** _ _who’s as busy as you._

Maria made herself turn away from the vista. If she stood here, her thoughts would drag her down, thinking of all the thing she couldn’t have, all the things she wasn’t. Better to keep going, to explore this place and have something to report back...

Or, she thought grimly, even just explore.

She made herself focus on the rooms she was walking through, made herself study the things that seemed inexplicable. A bathtub in what looked like a viewing area? Okay. It had a plughole and everything, even if the plug had long since disintegrated into nothing. A row of dangling circular bars acting as a wall? Sure. They chimed in a weird tonality when Maria tapped them and the resonant echoes bounced through the room in odd echoes.

And this entire culture had been destroyed – or destroyed itself – in a fight for resources – at least according to Thanos. Maria found it more than a little suspicious that the last person standing of a culture was someone who claimed that wiping out half the universe would preserve the balance of life because of a scarcity of resources.

In Maria’s experience, scarcity was usually one factor in many – the others included control of territory, and an unwillingness to share where there was excess.

Wandering through the building, Maria was almost surprised to find that she’d reached the top of the building. The ceiling began to opened out into what had probably once been an enclosed space, although the windows were long gone, leaving only the intricate framework that had once held them in place. It had been some kind of a viewing hall from which the people inside could see the lay of the gardens below, and the stretch of the roads out into the hills, along with the spires and their attendant protuberances up top.

Maria made her way out to the edge of the viewing platform. It was breezy up here, but not so strong that she had to watch out for errant gusts.

Even wrecked and fallen to ruin, Titan was a magnificent planet.

Something gleamed at the edge of her vision, out to the east – well, facing the setting sun, anyway. Maria peered out that way, and soon spotted the cluster of Wakandans picking their way down the dusty hill, and the glitter of sunlight rippling off Barnes’ arm.

There was someone else with them, though – someone much smaller and paler, quite clearly not a Wakandan.

Maria blinked and squinted in the thick afternoon light—was that—?

Air currents swirled around her, faint eddies that swiftly grew stronger and more buffeting. She turned as Sam circled above the balcony for a final pass before dropping neatly down to the balcony a few feet away.

“Hey. Got a pretty good view up here.”

“It has it’s benefits.” Maria glanced up. “Are the currents as rough as you expected?”

“Pretty much. Makes flying a bit of a challenge – I wouldn’t skim too close to those spires – but it’s no worse than some cities I’ve been in. If I never fly again in DC, it’ll be too soon.”

“Yes, but in DC you were dodging falling helicarrier.”

“And if I never have to dodge falling helicarrier again, that’ll also be too soon.” Sam grinned. “So how’s the serenity?”

Maria shot him a look. “It’s been...quiet.” Not all that different to world security these last few years. Ruthlessly, she dragged herself away from that thought. But the question that next came to her lips wasn’t exactly opting out either. “What did people decide to do?”

“Mostly take stock, I think. The Wakandans headed out – took Wanda and Bucky with them, as well as most of the Guardians. Quill protested, but the blue guy with the red tatts declared that he would join the warriors scoping out the lay of the land, and the Ent went with him. Mantis – the antenna lady – stayed with Fury.” Sam glanced at her. “Has he always been so insistent on being out in the field? That seems like a serious hindrance in the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Former Director.” Maria couldn’t quite keep the sting from her voice. “And no. It’s recent.”

“Recent as in the last four years?”

“Yes.”

Sam nodded. “Right. Well, I don’t know what the Wakandans put in the water, but T’Challa and one of the Dora Milaje managed to persuade Nick that staying back wasn’t a sign of weakness. I think the phrase used was ‘holding the fort with wisdom’. And I’m pretty sure he saw through it, but he took it better than being told he was too old.”

Maria snorted and turned back to the east. “Barnes went out with the Wakandans?”

_He’s happy there. I got no right to take that away from him._

_You still miss him._

_I miss a lot of things._

“He seems to have gotten pretty comfortable with them – and they with him.” Sam snorted. “They even gave him a name: _the White Wolf_!”

“I suppose it contrasts nicely with ‘the Black Panther’.” And didn’t have the connotations associated with ‘the Winter Soldier’.

Maria pointed to the party coming in. They were close enough to make out individuals, but far enough away to make identification difficult. “Question for you since you can see farther – who’s with them?”

Sam surveyed the specks on the hill. “Jane Foster? What’s she doing here?”

“What are any of us doing here?” Maria murmured.

“Saving the universe if you believe Strange. Dicking around in the afterlife if you don’t.”

“Which side do you fall on?”

“Hey, I’m not counting us out of the fight. But I won’t say it’s looking good either seeing as nobody knows what happens next – not even the guy who claims there’s a ‘next’ that’s going to happen.”

“Still nothing?”

“Still nothing.” He nudged her arm. “And speaking of ‘next’ are you coming back down in time for nightfall? Because even if you’re not involved, it’s probably best that we all stick together. And, no, nobody asked me to check up on you. I did it all on my lonesome. I can operate without Steve giving the orders.”

“I never thought otherwise.” But she also wouldn’t put it past Nick to get someone else to check in on her. “So we’re camping out in the city?”

“I don’t think there’ll be marshmallows on sticks.” Sam grinned. “Nobody’s hungry anyway. Have you noticed that? Not really tired. Not really hungry. Just here.”

“We’re not really real. We just think we are.”

“Shadows of a shade,” Sam murmured.“Well, if you want to go down that line of thought, talk to the Dora Milaje. They started arguing metaphysics after you left. And those ladies have debate and discussion down to a fine art, and aren’t slow to speak up.”

“They won’t be slow to tell you when you’re doing it wrong, either, Sam.”

“I don’t mind being told I’m wrong, so long as I get the chance to correct.” Sam grinned and bumped her on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’m not being a mom, I’m just saying be sure you’re home before dark. Okay?”

Maria rolled her eyes, but agreed.

“Cool. And now that’s done, I’m going to hassle Barnes about picking up women on alien planets.” He glanced over with an easy and inviting smile. “Come with?”

She nearly didn’t. The only way to fly down with Sam was by putting her arms around his neck and being carried down in his arms. But she didn’t much like the idea of walking all the way down to the ground by sunset.

And Maria wanted to talk to Jane. It had been a while – pretty much since the Avengers had left Stark Tower, although they’d kept in touch – brief contacts or queries about work. But since she’d seen Jane? Nearly three years.

So Maria submitted to being carried down by Sam – he wasn’t going to leer at her, or make comments, although he did pause as they stood at the edge of the balcony, shifting his grip.

“I’m not getting fresh,” he assured her as he jiggled her in his arms. “I’m just rebalancing.” His arms tightened. “Okay, hold on...”

They dropped off the edge, and Maria’s breath caught, her heart slamming into her throat as they plunged. Then Sam laughed, and she felt the thrusters kick in, giving them the push up into the patches of sky between the ruins of the city buildings.

“You’re a menace, Wilson!”

“You only just realized that?” He laughed. “Hold on.”

Maria refused to clutch, but her fingers might have convulsed a little as they soared along the currents of the breeze, riding out the eddies that swirled unevenly around the spires, until Sam banked over the waving and cheering Wakandans as an amused Winter Soldier and a bemused astrophysicist looked on. Maria forced herself to relax as Sam dropped gracefully to the ground and let gravity take them both, and waited until he was steady before she shifted her weight to be put down.

“That looked kind of fun,” said Jane, a smile peeping at the corners of her mouth. “Less messy than flying with Thor, anyway... I guess it also means the laws of physics still apply – well, most of them – even if the laws of metaphysics are all out the window.”

The comment was so very Doc Foster – greetings happened to other people, particularly when there were interesting things to science – that Maria’s mouth curved up at the corners.

“It’s good to see you, too, Jane.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Brothers In Arms_ by Junkie XL

It turned out that Jane had also woken up in the watery place after disintegrating in her lab before the horrified eyes of her staff. But her transition to Titan hadn’t involved walking through rings of fire. One minute she’d been on the lake with the temple gate, the next, she’d been on Titan.

“There was this shimmer,” she said to the intrigued Dora Milaje as one of the Wakandan men set up a kind of heater thing that was going to keep them warm through the night, and which would apparently also draw drinkable water from the air. “Like someone taking down a curtain to change the scenery – only a lot more wobbly. And I turned around to see, but the lake was already gone.”

One of the Dora Milaje said something in Wakandan, and another one rolled her eyes and retorted back – it sounded like a counter-argument being reasoned out. Several of the other Wakandan women were nodding at whatever the second one was saying, but at least one other didn’t look convinced.

“Was it something I said?”

“I don’t think so.”

On the other side of Maria, the Dora Milaje Ayo sighed with the weary exasperation of someone who was hearing something they’d rather not. “No, they are arguing the metaphysics in our native tongue, that is all.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “Really? What are they saying?”

The look Ayo shot Maria was questioning.

“She’s an astrophysicist. Metaphysics is what she does on her day off...”

“Ah. Tipa is saying that we are spirit only – no physicality in this shadow-land. But Najiri says that if we were not present at some physical level, we couldn’t interact with each other or the world that we perceive around us as a group – each of us would be imagining our own individual world.” Ayo shrugged. “The arguments are rooted in Wakandan schools of philosophy, and this is an old debate.”

“Well, I don’t know if it changes things, but I didn’t feel any transition as I went from the lake place to Titan. No pressure change, no temperature increase, nothing. It wasn’t until after I was on Titan that I felt the wind, so whatever I stepped through, it either wasn’t a physical mode of transport or I wasn’t physical when I used it...”

That started off another round of excited debate among the Dora Milaje, again in Wakandan.

Ayo sighed. “And now she has done it, and they will be at this all night.” She looked over at the ‘fire’ and the man setting it up, and said something to him in Wakandan. Maria rather thought it was the equivalent of _‘are you going to be all night about that?_ ’ His retort – also in Wakandan – was quite distinctly, ‘ _I’ll be all night about it if I want to be all night about it!’_

“Hey,” Sam said, emerging from the darkness with several mugs in each hand. “Soup anyone? Wakandan tomato flavor, I guess...”

Maria sniffed at the one she took. It smelled more of pepper than tomato, although a careful sip proved that at least it wasn't spicy. Warming, though, and oddly comforting.

“Do I want to know where the tribesmen were keeping these cups?” Ayo asked dryly, then frowned and studied it. “This does not look of Wakandan making.”

“Because it’s not,” said Quill as he materialized out of the shadows, carrying more mugs. “From the _Milano_ , at your service, ladies!”

He handed them out with a flourish and what he probably thought was a charming smirk. Beyond him, Sam rolled his eyes at the gallantry.

Jane paused as she reached out to take the mug Quill was offering, her expression arrested as she looked at him. “Do I know you?”

“Quite probably. I’m Star-Lord, known throughout the galaxy—”

This time, Sam’s snort was very much audible. Quill turned to glare at him. “Just because you’re all back-ass stuck on Earth—”

“Hey, you _came_ from back-ass Earth—”

“No.” Jane cut through the incipient testosterone display, sharp and incisive, her hand just resting on the mug. “I’ve only been off-Earth once and I would have remembered meeting you if you’d been on Asgard – and you’re not a Dark Elf. But...I know you from somewhere—”

Quill’s expression shifted from flattered and pompous to slightly alarmed. “Look, lady, I should mention that I’m in a relationship. And it’s serious. I mean, not that you’re bad-looking or anything, but me? I’m so very taken. And not interested. Of course, she’s not here right now – actually, she’s probably dead – but I’m most definitely, _definitely_ taken _—_ ”

Sharp green lightning split the sky to the west, and thunder boomed.

Conversations ceased, heads turned.

“Hold this.” Sam thrust the mug he was holding at Quill, then turned so he could spread his wings and launch.

“What—? Hey!” Quill fumbled with the cup, nearly dropping it. Jane reached out a hand to help, then yelped as the hot soup splashed over her hand.

Maria stood, intending to head up to the rim of the camp, but the world spun briefly, a dizzying shimmer. She grabbed at Jane’s shoulder to steady herself.

Jane caught her. “Maria?”

“What was that?” Quill said sharply, looking from Jane to Maria. “No, seriously, what _was_ that?”

Maria blinked, still getting her balance, and confused by the intensity of the question. A whizz of line indicated Peter was gaining height, and Maria's warning died on her lips. Wanda was rising in a cloud of scarlet sparks. The Wakandans were already heading for the ‘ridge’ that had been built to surround and defend the encampment; the ground was beginning to shake and tremble beneath them, dislodging the rubble on which the camp had been built, and he was asking _them_ what was happening?

Sam was going higher, calling something that nobody could hear, until Wanda made a gesture with her hand, and suddenly his voice was being amplified down to the camp.

“...an alien army, headed at a steady march in from the west.”

“Uh, is it just me, or do they look _dead_?” Peter asked and his voice was so clear they could hear the tremor of uncertainty in it. “Like, zombie-army-of-Viking-warriors dead?”

“They move like the living,” Wanda agreed, “But they look like the dead.”

“Whatever they are, they’re nine hundred yards out and closing, and they don’t look friendly.” Sam’s jets flared as he headed out. “I’ll do some recon—”

“No unnecessary risks!” Maria ordered, before realising he couldn’t hear her.

Although apparently he could, because his response came distantly back. “Copy that, Hill.”

“I took the liberty,” Wanda’s voice said softly by Maria’s ear, although the young woman was still up high in the air.

The camp was rapidly becoming chaos as people began moving. The Wakandans formed up by their platoons – or whatever units the Wakandans used – while across the camp, T’Challa was issuing orders, and the spell Wanda had employed to connect them all had evidently stopped, because Maria couldn’t hear them. But if there was an incoming army, then they’d need some kind of coordination...

A pack was thrust into her hands. “Communications,” Ayo said, even as Maria pulled out an earpiece and saw there was a spare for Jane. “The channel works – we used it to keep in touch with the search parties. Now is not the time to wander away.”

And so saying, she ran off to join the other Dora Milaje, who were forming up a phalanx, and already moving up over the ridge that marked the edge of the camp.

“Who’d wander away at this time?” Jane asked as Maria handed her the second earpiece.

“I wanted some time out earlier, so I separated from the main group. Nothing happened, and I rejoined the group when you arrived.”

“Right.” Jane turned the earpiece over in her hands. “So how do I put this in?”

“Come on.” Maria headed for the ridge, showing Jane how to put in her earpiece along the way. With the Avengers in scout positions, the Wakandans making up the bulk of the army, and the Guardians on their way to their ship, a random spy and an astrophysicist were hardly needed. But Maria was going see what was going on, and at the least work out a plan of attack.

There were other people heading for the ridge, too. Not all the Wakandans were falling into the squads prepping for the ‘Hawk Stoop’ formation, although whether that was because they were taking their own initiative, or had been ordered not to make the charge because of injury or infirmity, Maria didn’t know. She nodded at an older Wakandan soldier, exchanged a grim smile with one of the Dora Milaje, and made the briefest of eye contacts with Nick, and then resolutely turned her face to view the oncoming army.

The ridge wasn’t very high, but it gave a decent view of both the attackers descending the hills to the west of them, and the wedge-shaped formations that the Wakandans had called ‘Charging Rhino’. It also gave an excellent view of their leader, slim and black-clad, atop a greyish black beast—

“Is that—is that a giant wolf?”

“A giant zombie wolf,” Maria confirmed.

“But those—” Jane faltered. “That’s _Asgardian_ armor—”

Maria squinted. She trusted Jane’s knowledge of Asgard more than she trusted her own but if the armor had been Asgardian once upon a time, it wasn’t any longer. Rusted and pitted, the pieces melded onto the flesh of their wearers – what flesh there was left on them. And they ran in perfect silence; no shouts, no roar of battle, only the thunder of their footsteps pounding the ground as the poured down the slope towards the encampment.

A chant rose up from the Wakandans; some kind of a battle cry that involved lifting their spears to the sky and brandishing their cloaks, even as the Dora Milaje’s voices lifted in counter-cry. T’Challa shouted something in Wakandan, and got a roar of approval in response. The units moved out, thin wedges of maybe twenty men moving together with a unity that was breathtaking in its intensity.

“Wow,” murmured Jane. “I mean, you hear about these things, but actually seeing them—”

Maria had seen Wakandan troop movements before. She’d been in Wakanda discussing T’Challa’s willingness to be involved in world security at the time, and there’d been a warrior display going on, which she’d watched from a vantage point with Nakia, Ayo, and Okoye.

Those had been drills.

This was the real thing.

The Wakandan units slipped through the maze of rubble for which this camp had been chosen – a first line of defence on an unknown planet. Any attacking group would slow down as they hit the maze, allowing the camp to pick them off.

That was, if they weren’t first taken out by Wanda Maximoff.

A ball of glowing red streaked out towards the oncoming zombie army, and thinned out into a horizontal line that grew long, snaking tendrils that snapped in the air like whips before curling and twisting around each other to form a scarlet net that stretched for at least half a mile along the oncoming front. Maria dared a glance up at Wanda, still floating a dozen yard up and more. The younger woman’s hair twisted and curled in the air behind her, borne by a wind nobody else could feel, yet the power coming off her was palpable.

The zombie army didn’t halt or slow, just charged straight forward into the scarlet net.

It didn’t stop them.

The leaders passed straight through the filaments of Wanda’s net as though it wasn’t there. They ran another half-dozen steps, the second row behind them.

Then the screaming began.

It rose from rotted throats and collapsed lungs, the stuff of nightmares. Even a hundred fifty yards back, the sound crawled through Maria’s bones, shuddering down her spine. The Wakandan units paused, looking around them in instinctive fear, even as the scouts who climbed to the top of the maze ‘walls’ reported back.

“Like the screaming of the damned,” Jane muttered.

“But they’re still coming.” Maria watched as the first ones to pass through Wanda’s net fell to their knees, their mouths open in endless screams. The second wave managed only a few steps more, before whatever the net had done to them closed in around them, and they, too, were left screaming. But the third wave closed another twenty yards and the net was starting to fade, the power no longer a constant glow, but an unsteady shimmer—

The fourth wave of zombies hit the net and passed through with only a moment’s stumble, closing in on the encampment.

Something flashed through the air from behind the zombie army’s lines. The sliver of darkness seemed to ripple the space through which it moved as it sliced through the small glowing ball of Wanda’s power, snuffing it out.

If the enemy was in any way practical, the next move would be—

“Wanda!”

“I see them.” She sounded breathless, but the dark daggers arrowing in on her exploded in a spatter of sparks as Wanda deflected them – one, two, three, four—

A crash and crunch of rubble further out; the zombies had hit the maze and were being met by the Wakandans. Where they weren’t, Peter, was spinning webs to slow the zombies down – and, in some instances, to trip them up or tie them up so someone could deal with them later.

Maria pulled the sidearm she’d co-opted from Sam, and briefly wondered if he wished he had a second one before aiming for a zombie who’d worked out that he could clamber up the sides of the maze and make a beeline for the camp—

A Wakandan stun-bolt took him through the chest, aimed from far higher up than any of the ground-troops. She glanced up, to where Sam was already targeting another zombie with the spear.

But more of them were getting away from the Wakandans, more of them reaching the maze, more of them coming down the hill, a seemingly-inexhaustible resource that just kept coming.

“Where are they coming from?” Maria heard Jane ask as she targeted a zombie who was picking his way across the maze—

“Maybe the question is ‘what do they want’?” Nick said, speaking up for the first time. “What’s the leader want that they’re gonna throw a thousand fighters at a lone encampment?”

The leader had stopped at the crest of the last hill, surveying the battle from the back of the beast pacing back and forth.

His?

Maria squinted. The figure was too slim, and the horns on the helmet – antlers? – were the wrong shape and too angular. Still— “That’s not Loki, is it?”

Jane blinked and turned to stare at the distant figure. “No,” she said. Then, “I think...is that a woman?”

At that moment, the rider turned, and although the woman was easily a half-mile away, Maria felt the presence and focus in that gaze like a punch. There was no reason to think that the leader could even see them – tiny figures against the backdrop of a broken city while a thousand zombie soldiers pitched themselves against rubble barricades—

She leaned forward on the beast, as though murmuring something in its ear, and the beast turned, paced one step forward, and then leapt forward, without care or consideration for what lay in front of it.

Zombies were mown down, scattered like tiny tenpins. The Dora Milaje had postulated that they were all spirit here; but apparently spirit could be crushed beneath the paws of a giant lizard-dog just as easily as flesh. And the woman rode on, perfectly straight, never looking aside, uncaring of who or what she crushed as she made her way towards the camp.

“We have incoming,” Maria told the comms, as the black curve of the antlered helmet gleamed deadly in the fast-falling twilight. “Coming straight for us, and she doesn’t care about her own. T’Challa, warn your fighters—”

“I’ve got her in my sights,” Sam said. “Wanda, how about a fastball special on my shot?”

“You and your ‘fastball special’,” came the response, a note of wry humor in it. “On three, two, one—”

The shot that emitted from Sam’s spear had the typical blue color of the Wakandan energy bolts; but was encased in scarlet flame, and it seemed to pick up energy as it sped towards the wolf-lizard and the woman riding it.

With a snap of giant jaws, the wolf-lizard swallowed the blue pearl in the scarlet flame. The rider flung out her arms, and shadowy daggers spattered from her hands.

“Shit!” Sam twisted and turned, evading the projectiles that seemed to be everywhere. Maria saw the flash as one of them sideswiped his jetpack, and a plume of smoke blossomed out. Her hands clenched around the butt of her gun as he lost altitude, managing a barely-controlled descent—

“Maria!” Nick’s bellow made her turn as a zombie cleared the last of the maze and began clambering up the ridge.

She shot him down, then picked off another two, three—

And Black Antlers and her beast were still coming—

But, no, the beast had faltered, the green glow beneath its skin tinting red in patches, then suddenly burning bright scarlet—

It collapsed at the edge of the rubble maze, a burst of scarlet light burning it away from the inside out. This close, Maria could see the rage that convulsed across Black Antlers’ face, even as she leapt from the creature and strode up the rubble.

Wakandan energy shots bounced off her, although she waved a hand and the next barrage of bolts were swallowed up into an aura that suddenly glowed green around her. T’Challa leaped for her, sure-footed on the rubble, but she didn’t even turn to look at him as she caught him by the throat and tossed him away with inhuman strength. Barnes was dealt with just as casually.

Wanda’s spell was cut short when a black dagger spun towards her, requiring her to use the spell as a shield. Peter’s swing line was cut as he swung in – and then the dagger recurved around to sever his ‘rescue’ line. Maria saw him throw out _another_ line and bit back the urge to swear — _goddamn it, Tony, he’s a child_ —

Engines whined, and _the Milano_ rose over the hill, its guns already tracking Black Antlers. Unfortunately, it was also tracking with little regard for who else was in the line of fire.

“Friendly fire!” Maria shouted as she grabbed Jane and dragged her away hoping it was far enough. There was no way to be sure—

Black Antlers turned her head, following them with her gaze, and she flung a hand out towards the _Milano_ not even looking to see if the daggers landed as she strode towards Maria and Jane—

Maria brought her weapon up, knowing it was hopeless, hoping to at least buy a few moments grace.

A tall, dark-clad blur tackled Black Antlers from the side.

The woman must have seen him coming, because she turned, thrust—

Nick jerked, and stumbled back. An icy coil of shock unfurled in Maria’s belly. His hands were wrapped around the hilt of a knife which he was pulling from his chest.

Anger spiked, shot through with whippy tendrils of grief before cold rage took her. She fired, unthinking.

A split-second later she realized her mistake as Black Antlers waved a hand and the bullets _reversed_ —

Something shimmered in front of Maria’s face, concentric circles rippling outwards as the reflected bullets vanished in mid-air.

Black Antler’s eyes widened, her lips pulled back in a snarl, and she strode towards Maria, every step a grinding death beneath booted heels—

A body crashed into her from above, a rag doll or a gauntlet thrown down. She shoved him away with a snarl of frustration, pushing him into Maria. Windmilling arms grabbed for anything that would stabilize him, and Maria's hands came up both to stabilize and to shove away. The weight of their conflict swung them around.

A gleaming blur of silver descended like a meteorite from the sky, blue cape and ebony hair flying behind her as she warbled a battlecry, sword upraised. There was a screen of metal and a crash and Black Antlers went down hard.

But Maria stared into the sharp features of a face she hadn’t seen in five years and would have been happy never to see again.

The last she’d heard of him was Thor saying he was dead.

From the look of Loki now, up close and very in her personal space, he wasn’t far off from it now. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin had a distinctly blue tinge, even beneath the orange sky. But his lips peeled back in a bare-toothed grin.

“I remember you—”

Maria shoved him away, rage and revulsion giving her strength to break the ice-cold grip of those long, thin hands. He stumbled back, and a scarlet cloak wrapped around him, binding him tightly from throat to shins.

Loki’s gaze shifted back. “You!”

“Me,” Strange agreed. “How unpleasant to see you again.”

“I assure you, the feeling’s entirely mutual.” Loki’s smile was thin and displeased, but also a little triumphant. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not the one you have to worry about anymore.”

Maria followed his gaze to where Black Antlers was fighting the woman in silver armor, trading blow for blow, evenly matched. Silver Armor’s teeth were bared as she struck and struck and struck again, while Black Antlers looked more frustrated than anything else. Black Antlers’ eyes widened suddenly and she stumbled as ropes of glowing scarlet bound themselves around her ankles, fouling her next blow and tripping her up. Silver Armor’s sword passed just over her head, barely snagging one antler and striking screeching sparks, and Black Antler snarled and flung out a hand in Maria’s direction, even as a scarlet rope whipped around her wrist.

Black darts blurred through the air towards her. Maria lifted a hand, knowing it was useless—

The world _shimmered_. The darts vanished in a ripple, swallowed up like the bullets of before. Behind her, Jane gasped, as though in shock or pain, but when she turned the other woman only looked stunned, her eyes unfocused.

Black Antlers snarled, but Silver Armor laughed, sharp as the sword she lifted. “I’ve been waiting five thousand years for this moment, bitch!”

But as her blade swung down, a ring of fire flared around her, and she stumbled out of another ring of fire several yards away.

She turned, sharp and furious. “What in Bor’s name—?”

“I can’t let you do kill her.” said Strange mildly. “It turns out we need her to save the universe.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Is She With You?_ by Hans Zimmer/Junkie XL

Silver Armor took some convincing to leave Black Antlers alone. Strange had to fiery-ring-teleport her again to make her realize that taking a second swing wasn’t going to work any more than the first one had.

Maria ignored it as she skirted Loki, Strange, Black Antlers, and Silver Armor, running over to where Nick was down, wondering where they’d get any kind of medical assistance _here_ that could possibly help a dagger in the stomach—

He made a sound like a groan, flinging out one arm, and Maria stopped short as he pushed himself up. He rolled to his knees without assistance, and his hands went to his stomach, patting himself down in confusion. There was no injury, no wound, no blade in his gut – not even a scratch.

He looked up at her blankly. “What the hell?”

“But—I saw it—” Maria stopped. “Does anything hurt?”

“No more than normal.” He rested his hands on his knees a moment before standing up and wincing. “I _felt_ it go through me like ice,” he growled. “What’s going on?”

They both turned to look where Strange was threatening to leave Silver Amor in an endless falling loop if she didn’t stop swiping at Black Antlers. Her expression suggested she was seriously considering taking a swipe at him.

“You take them,” Maria suggested. “I’ll check the others.” There was no way she was going to get into that fight. And Nick had age and authority on his side, so...maybe it would help. And if not, well, he had experience in dealing with the intractable and the intransigent.

She looked around, taking stock of the others. The main body of the Wakandans were still fighting, rallied by the Dora Milaje and T’Challa, who’d landed on his feet and gotten back into the fray. The _Milano_ had landed without apparently injury – at least, there were holes in its cockpit and hull, and figures climbing out of the cockpit. Maria couldn’t hear them over the noise of battle, but she could imagine the arguments and accusations taking place. The ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ weren’t exactly a restful or harmonious bunch, even with each other.

Peter was back in the fray, spinning webs to slow down the zombies where they broke through, taking the kind of risks that had Maria’s hands fisting by her sides. She found Barnes shaking himself off and already moving back into the fray, while Wanda was holding Black Antlers with her restraints, and it was taking most of her focus, although she spared Maria a glance and a nod as she passed.

Sam had landed rough, but apparently whole on the downwards slope into the camp. “No bones broken, anyway,” he said as Maria came over. A few feet away, the jet pack was still smoking, the hole the obsidian dagger had made grimly visible. The thought that there should be a similar hole through Nick sickened her. “But that’s gonna be hell to repair.”

“One of the Wakandans will find a way.”

“If there are any left after this.” Sam looked out at the edge of the camp where the battle between the Wakandans and the zombie army was still raging. “You still got that gun I gave you?”

She offered it to him, but he waved it away as he picked up a fallen Wakandan spear instead.

“Just checking that you’re armed.”

“I’m always armed.”

“And I’m always careful,” he said as he aimed and fired for a zombie who was just leaping over one of the maze passageways towards them. “But you always tell me to be careful.” He flashed a grin over his shoulder before striding for the fray. “You be careful, too.”

Maria fought back the urge to take her weapon and join him. It would probably be easier than dealing with Strange and Silver Armor, who were now arguing over whether they should let Loki loose or not. Jane was standing not quite off to the side, while Nick was looking like he was trying to decide if he should shoot Loki now or later.

She glanced back at the Guardians, checking that they’d all made it out – it was habit. Drax and Mantis and Groot were wielding weapons and heading for the perimeter and the maze, but Quill looked like he was on the warpath as he headed towards them. Maria grimaced to herself. That was exactly what they needed – one more argumentative person to add to the noise.

“Considering he’s already tried to enslave Earth on behalf of the guy who turned us all into dust,” Nick was saying in answer to Silver Armor’s point that Loki was a butt-end but mostly harmless, “My vote tends no.”

Silver Armor gave Loki a disgusted look. “This is what Bruce and Thor were talking about?”

Jane, standing to one side, visibly started. “You know Thor?”

“Why else would I be hanging out with him?” She jerked a thumb at Loki.

“Here I thought it was my wonderful personality.” But Loki wasn’t fazed by the dismissal. Rather, he seemed almost gleeful. “But someone ought to ask just _how_ she’s been hanging around Thor.”

He looked from Silver Armor to Jane. Jane looked from him to Silver Armor. Silver Armor looked from him to Jane. Strange winced and seemed to brace himself, like he was expecting a catfight.

Jane didn’t look stricken, but she tensed a little as she looked at Silver Armor. “I’m Jane Foster.”

Understanding flared in the dark eyes, but Silver Armor just nodded. “The Valkyrie.” She even managed to say it with a ring in her voice.

“Did my brother ever tell you that he always wanted to be a Valkyrie?” Loki said, a brightly malicious note to his voice. “They were his heroes when he was a kid, and now that he’s a grown man—mmph!” The collar of Strange’s cloak covered his mouth.

“I think that’s enough from you.” Strange said briskly.

“More than enough,” Nick said. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a battle happening out there, and it’s not stopping just because we’ve taken down the leader!”

They turned to look at Black Antlers. The Valkyrie lifted her sword menacingly, causing Strange’s hand to half-lift, but she didn’t move towards the prisoner. “Call off your dogs, Princess!”

Princess? Maria leaned towards Jane. “What did I miss?”

“Her name’s Hela and she’s Thor’s sister. His _older_ half-sister.” Jane gives her a wry look. “First marriage. There was a lot of ‘firstborn of Odin’ and ‘ruler of Asgard’ stuff and demands to be set free.” She winced. “Actually, she sounded a lot like Thor when I first met him”

Hela was denying that she had any control over the zombie army so long as her hands remained tied by Wanda’s bindings. “Remove them and I’ll try to call them off.”

“Take those off and we’re all dead,” Valkyrie warned Strange.

“Yes, I think I worked that part out myself.” Strange stared at Hela for a long few moments.

“You wanna share with the class what she’s contributing to the saving of the universe?” Nick inquired in the tone that sounded mild as milk, but which portended serious snark if he didn’t get a satisfying answer. “Or is that something else that you didn’t notice?”

Maria studied Hela. The woman presented like a goth escapee from the 90s, but there was a shrewd intelligence in the blue eyes as they darted back and forth. Maria wouldn’t have bet against Hela making note of exactly who was saying what and calculating precisely how she could turn it to her own advantage. And if this woman had once been the military leader of Asgard, she was no fool.

Which meant that Hela wanted something here on this planet.

“Why is she attacking us?” The others looked at her. “It’s not because of Loki and Valkyrie; they turned up _after_ the attack began. So she wanted something that was already here, in the camp. What was it, and why?”

Maria had kept her gaze on Hela, even as the others turned towards her. So she saw the quick flick of Hela’s gaze towards Jane. And suddenly remembered the last alien conflict on Earth and what originally caused it.

“The Aether.” The connection was suddenly quite clear. “The Aether is an infinity stone. And it once possessed Jane.”

Jane stared. “The Aether? But that was three years ago – and Malkeith took it out of me.”

The Valkyrie was regarding Jane with a new respect in her gaze. “You were possessed by an infinity stone?”

“It wasn’t intentional!” Jane shrugged. “And I didn’t know what it was at the time. But I got a trip to Asgard out of it so...”

She turned at the sharp, angry crunch of boots on rubble as Quill pushed past her, his weapon pointed at Hela, his fingers clenching on the trigger—

Nothing. No bolt emitted from the end of the weapon.

A shimmer hazed the air around them and the world trembled, shaking as though in the throes of a quake. Everything wobbled, and there were shouts as the noise of battle eased back for a few moments.

Maria grabbed for Jane’s shoulder, uncertain of her balance, and felt the _thrum_ of something humming in flesh and skin, even before Jane caught her arm to balance herself against Maria. Quill flailed and stumbled, fetching up against Jane’s side. Maria hissed as the hum increased abruptly, like someone had dialled up the power by a hundred percent.

“Ow!”

“What—?”

“What was that? What did you do?”

“What did _I_ do?” Jane exclaimed, “What did _you_ do? What were you doing trying to shoot her?”

“I was dealing with the problem! She wrecked my ship!” He gestured at Hela with the weapon. “Now my _friends_ are fighting zombies, and you know what, I don’t have to explain myself to _you_ —”

“Dr. Foster.” Strange cut through Quill’s tirade, his expression suddenly intent. “Think of getting rid of the zombies.”

“Getting rid of the zombies?”

A hint of impatience touched Strange’s expression and echoed in his voice. “Just...imagine them gone.”

Jane frowned. “Do you mean as in vanishing them? Are they still there and just invisible? Or are they entirely, completely gone like they never existed?”

“Either.” Strange paused. “Although perhaps it would be better if you just imagined them crumbling into dust.”

This time, when the world quivered, Maria was half expecting it. Beneath her hand, the buzz grew stronger, although not as fierce as the hum that she’d felt before. Cries of surprise rose up from the battlefield, and Sam exclamation of “What the hell—?” rang in Maria’s ear.

Maria’s gaze clashed with Nick as she reached for her earpiece. “Avengers, report!”

“Uh, the zombie army has kind of vanished—Well, some of them—”

“The ones we were fighting,” T’Challa said. “Nearest to the camp.”

“Up to a perimeter of around four hundred yards beyond the maze,” Barnes said, clear and crisp, like a military report. “But they’re still coming.”

Nick had reached one of the vantage points on the perimeter of the camp. “They’ve got to be coming from somewhere. Wilson, can you scout—?”

“My pack’s toast,” he said. “Wanda?”

“Not without letting Hela go,” Wanda said, her voice strained. She looked at Strange. “You know something.”

“Close proximity to an Infinity Stone changes you.” The words were light, but very crisp. “And that it’s unheard of for a human to be able to physically constrain the power of one – even a group of people—”

“Hey, we managed to hold the Power gem!” Quill interjected sharply.

“Really?” Strange’s eyes glittered, although he barely glanced Quill’s way to acknowledge the interruption. “You can tell us about it later, then.” He focused back on Jane. “What I’ve been able to find out about the Reality gem suggests that it tends to remake its own rules. You got here without any other means of transport. You made the immediate zombie threat go away. And I’d bet that when Hela arrived you wished for help.”

Jane’s lips pressed together. Then she grimaced. “All right. I did wish – briefly – that Thor was here. But ultimately, I just wanted someone who knew what we were dealing with!”

“And you got them,” Maria murmured dryly.

Jane winced. “So, if I can wish anything I want, why can’t I wish us all out of this...limbo?”

“Most likely because you don’t have the Reality stone,” Strange said. “Just the echo or shadow of having carried it. Which, in this place that’s probably a shadow of all of us, would be enough.”

“Enough to affect a localized area.”

“But not enough to call Thor, _or_ get rid of an entire zombie army.” Maybe the Valkyrie usually sounded off-hand, but Maria found the tone a little insulting, particularly given who it was directed at.

Jane was staring at the Valkyrie with a frown, and Maria didn’t blame her. But the last thing they needed was for this to turn into a conflict between an ex-girlfriend and a current squeeze.

And she’d had a thought.

“Quill.” Maria used her ‘authority’ voice to get his attention. “Take Jane’s hand.”

“What? Why?”

‘ _Because I said so_ ’ wouldn’t go down well. Neither would ‘ _Just trust me_.’ Maria went for reasonable.

“When you brushed past Jane just then, something happened. Like someone dialled it up to eleven—”

“Look, I already said, I’m taken—”

Jane rolled her eyes and put her hand out to grab Quill’s arm.

This time, Maria wasn’t the only one who felt the thrum of reality shifting. It was like the whine of an engine in the background, only it wasn’t in the background anymore but right there in the air all around them.

Quill gaped at Jane. “Am I doing that?”

“You’re both doing it,” Maria told him. “Whatever ‘it’ is.”

Jane lifted her hand from his arm, and the sense of power dropped away. She brought her hand back up, but didn’t touch him this time, testing the proximity before the contact. At least, that was what Maria presumed she was doing until Quill reached for Jane’s hand. She started to pull away, then changed her mind, her fingers closing slowly around his.

The hum dialled up again. And this time it went beyond eleven.

“ _Now_ think of getting rid of the zombies,” Strange said. “All of them.”

They stared at each other, almost blankly, then turned as one to look at the seemingly endless zombie army coming down the hills...

At first it looked like an invisibility cloak settling down over the zombies, vanishing them from sight. Then the dust cloud rose up from where the zombies had been like smoke from a distant fire, refracting the light into a cloud of reddish orange and deepening the hue of the orange sky.

Watching the zombies drift into dust, Maria’s stomach roiled, remembering the itchy sensation of drifting into nothing. She pressed a hand to her belly and took a deep breath, steadying herself as she watched the dust sweep off into the sky.

Amidst the cheers of the Wakandans, she heard Nick murmur, “I’ll be damned.” Then, lifting his voice, “And this is what you wanted her for?”

Hela shrugged, nonchalantly off-hand. “I thought she might be useful.”

“For what?” Jane demanded. “Skipping between planets without having to space travel? For disappearing people from this dimension, but not being able to take us back to the real world?”

They looked at Hela, who merely smiled. “I never had the pleasure of breaking my brother’s toys. Maybe I was just looking forward to that.”

The smile she directed at Jane was malicious.

“Hey, that’s not very nice.” Quill was probably going for irony. Maria wondered if he realized he was still holding hands with Jane. It seemed Jane woke up to the fact about the same time as Maria, because she pulled her hand from Quill’s.

“I get the feeling that ‘nice’ isn’t a word that’s used to describe her often,” Nick said sardonically.

“Oh, you think so?”

Hela made a noise of disgust and looked at Loki. “You were so useless, you weren’t able to defeat them, even with Thanos’ help?”

His mouth still covered by the cloak Loki just looked pointedly at Wanda’s bindings on Hela.

“Thanos...” The Valkyrie had put her sword away, at least, and was pulling a silver flask from one of the pockets on her outfit, but she sounded thoughtful. “This is Titan, isn’t it?”

“What’s left of it,” said Quill, bitterly. “He’s called the Mad Titan for a reason.”

“Back in my day, he was known as the Runt, even on Asgard.”

Maria blinked. “On Asgard?”

“Well where do you think he learned about the Infinity gems?” She waved a hand at the ruins around them. “Not here!”

“Thanos was on Asgard?”

The Valkyrie stared at her. “You guys really _do_ know nothing about the history of the universe. Not that Thor knew anything about his own father’s true history, either.”

The superiority pricked, more than a little, Maria let it pass because now wasn’t the time and here wasn’t the place.

“So how about you kindly educate us?” Nick practically growled it.

“Happy to.” She pulled a hip flash from one of the pockets in the bandolier slung across her chest, and took a swig. “So, you probably haven’t heard The True Story Of How The Asgardian Empire Was Established Under Odin, because the old man could lie like a drunk in the streets of Sakaar. But let me tell you The Doomed Love Story Of Hela And Thanos...”

Hela and Thanos?

While everyone around her gaped, the Valkyrie drained her hip flask to the dregs, belched loudly, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Anyone got anything to drink while we’re at it?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _N'Kara's Theme_ by Nick Glennie-Smith

Once upon a time, an Asgardian Princess met a runt Titan while she and her father were out conquering the galaxy. As her father’s most dangerous general, she loved causing death and destruction, and since the Titan had Opinions about the overuse of resources by planetary powers that got him called ‘Mad’ by his people, he was more than happy to support her as she culled populations that were, in his opinion, recklessly squandering resources.

Through Hela and Odin, Thanos found out about the existence of the Infinity gems, and the power they held.

“That seems...oddly indiscreet for Odin,” Jane said frankly. “He was all ‘me, king; you, puny nobody who I could have carried out in chains and vanished forever’.”

Sitting a few feet over, Loki made a snorting noise loud enough that everyone looked at him. His mouth curled in a dry sneer. “Did you even meet our father? The whole ‘me, king; you, puny nobody’ thing was generally Odin’s default setting.”

Strange let Loki out of the cloak at the Valkyrie’s urging, but bound his hands and his ankles after he tried to sneak off at least once.

Weirdly, he’d been caught by Quill, who’d somehow noticed him leaving when nobody else had.

“ _Where do you think you’re going?_ ”

Loki had blinked at him blankly. “ _You can see me?_ ”

“ _Well, it’s not like you’re made of glass!_ ”

Whatever augmentative power Quill had for the Reality stone, it cut through illusions quite effectively. Interestingly neither Groot the adolescent tree nor Drax the blue-and-tattooed seemed to have it, so it wasn’t about their holding the gem of Power.

“ _Interesting,_ ” Strange muttered, without explaining why he found it interesting.

Of course Quill claimed it was his special ‘celestial blood’ that made the difference, which Strange questioned, resulting in an argument that got abruptly cut off when Jane decided to resurrect the Wakandans who’d died fighting Hela’s zombie armies.

She decided this without consulting anyone else.

“ _I’m guessing horror movies aren’t high on your list of entertainment ‘go tos’,_ ” Sam observed after the panic had died down. “ _Because otherwise you’d know that never ends well_.”

It ended pretty well – apart from the scolding that Jane got for not warning people first. The formerly-dead Wakandans woke a little shell-shocked, but otherwise entirely themselves, and T’Challa was grateful to Jane, even as he suggested that perhaps next time a little more warning might suffice.

Now, Valkyrie shook her head at Loki.

“Look, we’re not talking Odin, king of the Asgardian Empire. We’re talking Odin, son of Bor, with a giant chip on his shoulder and something to prove. His father had hidden the Aether and deliberately avoided knowing where it was. Which has got to burn that he didn’t trust his son with it. So Odin getting his hands on the Infinity of Space – what you lot call the Tesseract – was a big deal while he was consolidating power. He wanted to show it off to someone outside of his power, and Thanos was a runt of a Titan, but he was still a Titan.”

“So Thanos found out about the Infinity stones,” Nick mused. “When did Thanos fall out with Odin?”

“Right around the time Daddy found out about Thanos seeing his little girl. He’d already started worrying about Hela’s propensity for death and destruction; a boyfriend tipped the balance.”

Beside Maria, Sam snorted softly. “They usually do.”

The Valkyrie was still speaking. “The last thing Odin – or anyone else in Asgard – wanted was a bunch of little Helas and Thanoses running around the universe. So Thanos was banished from Asgard, and various squadrons of Asgardian warriors were sent to deal with Hela, until Odin finally decided to banish her to another dimension and hold her there.”

“But Odin is dead – so you tell us,” T’Challa observed, “And Thor had not the power of his father to hold Hela in place.”

“And her power is tied to Asgard. So we razed Asgard.” It wasn’t the news; it was the way she said it. Like destroying the heart of an empire was commonplace. “Of course, there wasn’t that much of the Empire left. Thor said the peace was fragile after the rainbow bridge shattered a while back, and then Loki impersonated Odin and ignored the outer regions of the Asgardian empire. And then when Odin died and Hela got back to this realm, she promptly took over Asgard.”

“And you destroyed it.”

“We got the people off.” She made it sound like that was the important bit, and, well, maybe it was. “Thor was bringing them to Earth with plans to settle them there. But then Thanos overtook us and we got most of the civilians away, but Thor and Loki and Heimdall insisted on staying and...”

Her shrug and the subtle tightness of her expression made the remaining sequence of events fairly clear.

“If Thanos was seeking the Infinity gems,” asked one of the Dora Milaje, “why was he after you? You said you were refugees with nothing, seeking Earth.”

Val turned and looked at Loki. The utterly innocent look might have worked – on another group of people.

“The Tesseract,” Nick said grimly. “We gave it back to Asgard after the Chitauri.”

“Probably scooped it up while pretending to be Odin,” Sam murmured.

“But he had not only the Tesseract – that’s the Space gem, right – but all the others,” said Peter Parker. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, what Doc Foster did was pretty cool—destroying the zombie army and raising the dead—”

“Hey, I did some of that!”

“Yeah, and Mister Quill, um, Star-Lord,” Peter added quickly, “But I don’t think the Doc is going to get everything back to the way it should be.”

Maria saw Nick glance at Strange, irritated at the man’s continued silence. He’d always hated it when someone withheld information valuable to others; an irony which Maria could both appreciate and deplore. From her own perspective, a lack of accurate intel frequently led to mission failure; but she was well aware that plenty of people – Steve and Tony included – had deplored Nick’s habit of secret-keeping. But this...this felt rather too much like the dangers of foreknowledge – self-fulfilling prophecies, and knowing too much and not enough.

Sometimes it was better not to know all the details and to wing it as you went.

Maria knew about the best-laid plans going out the window; it was one of the things that had made her stand out at S.H.I.E.L.D.

And, too, she’d been thinking.

“Maybe the question is what a little bit of the Reality stone is enough to _do_. Jane raised the dead with it, Vision often noted he wasn’t using more than a fraction of the capability of the Mind gem, And Strange has said that in thousands of years, his secret order of mystic sorcerers only ever scraped the surface of what the Time stone could do.” Maria looked at the people around her, bemused. “It’s never what you have, it’s how you use it.”

Sam nudged her. “And you’d know.”

“I might have some experience,” she conceded. Then had to cover a yawn that escaped her.

“Oh, are we keeping you up past your bedtime?” Quill inquired sarcastically.

Maria regarded him with a flat look. “It’s been an exceptionally long day for everyone at this point,” she pointed out. “It’s a little more surprising that we’re just tired, not exhausted. Or hungry, rather than starving.”

“It might be the nature of this place,” one of the Wakandans noted. “Fighting did not leave us as weary as it should. And that was after the battle against the armies of Thanos.”

“I think a rest period for all is indicated,” T’Challa’s voice lifted. “The question of what we do next can surely wait until the morning, and – as N’Tombe has indicated, it has been a very long day for Wakanda.”

There wasn’t a lot of argument against it; whatever had held most people through the battles was wearing off, and there wasn’t much argument being made against rest.

“Your body might not need it,” Maria told Jane when Jane grumbled about missing the opportunity to run some experiments on what she could and couldn’t do, “but your mind does. You don’t want to change reality – even this reality – while you’re half-asleep. Do it fresh tomorrow.”

Jane sighed and rolled her eyes, but even she didn’t argue the point. “Who’s keeping an eye on Hela and Loki?”

“T’Challa assigned a couple of Wakandans to guard each – and they’ll change when the watches change so there’s less chance of Loki sweet-talking one of them around.”

More concerning to Maria were the shackles on Hela. Wanda had been holding them for the last few hours, and her question was whether they’d remain once Wanda fell asleep. She found Wanda nodding at something Strange was saying – it sounded arcane, and might as well have been another language for all that Maria understood it. Which it probably was.

She waited until there was a break in the conversation and Wanda had turned to her before asking, “Are you okay to hold Hela all night?”

Wanda nodded. “We have just discussed a binding that should work through the night without draining my power.”

“I...have some knowledge in how to make bindings last.” Strange managed to sound halfway modest, which must have been an effort for him. “We’ll do what we can, but no promises.”

“And you’re sure still we need her?” Maria asked the question bluntly because there was no point in beating about the bush.

“Yes,” Strange said, without hesitation.

“But you’re not willing to say why.”

“Seeing the future isn’t like watching a movie,” he said shortly. “It’s like catching the previews and having to put the whole together from the parts. Even then – as in a movie trailer – it’s possible to be entirely wrong about how everything is going to happen and even what happens in the end. And, to take the simile one step further, I watched the movie on fast forward, and every time I found a dead end, I had to rewind to find the right way to go.”

“So you’re operating on what you hopefully remember correctly from seeing the future?”

“In a word...yes.”

“So we might not save the universe after all?”

A smile flickered briefly behind the beard. “There’s always the possibility that we don’t.”

Which was typical of prophets and prophecies. Maria shook her head and turned to Wanda. “If anything changes through the night, don’t be a hero. Call for help and wake me up.”

The half-smile turned gleaming sharp. “But I _am_ a hero, Maria. I am an _Avenger_.”

“Which is why I have to say it out loud.” Maria matched Wanda’s tone of voice. “Get some sleep.”

“I could say the same to you,” Wanda said pointedly.

“ _All right. You know the channels; keep in touch. And get some sleep.”_

“ _I could say the same to you.”_

_There was no mistaking the innuendo in the comment, and out of sight of the phone camera and clad in nothing but a t-shirt, Maria felt the blush washing up her nape, across her earlobes, and down her breasts. She waited for him to disconnect._

“ _Do I want to know how they know?”_

_He looked at her, frank and open and with a fierce disappointment burning in his eyes. “You already knew that I wasn’t going to hide us, Maria.”_

“ _Yes, but this thing...we’ve only just...” Maria felt awkward just talking about it. “They shouldn’t_ _ **already**_ _know.”_

_He rose from his chair and crossed the room. Maria felt the instinct to back up as he closed in, but she wasn’t the retreating kind. Not physically, anyway. “They’ve been watching us circle each other for the last six months.” His hands cupped her shoulders. “They’ve seen me read your emails, heard my voice when we’re talking on the phone. Of course they know.”_

Maria shook her head as she went to settle herself down, tucking herself in a corner out of the way. It wasn’t the most comfortable bed she’d ever had, but it wasn’t the worst, either.

As she closed her eyes, she wondered what the other Avengers were doing, out in the real world.

Exhaustion swamped her and she slept.


	7. Part Two: Old And Young Lions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _History Lesson_ by Rupert Gregson-Williams

Nick heard the Wakandans approaching long before they stopped in front of him.

He didn’t open his eye, choosing to enjoy the sun – or whatever it was that was warming his old bones from the inside out in this place that apparently wasn’t actually a place at all. The philosophically minded were busy hashing that one out, he’d left them to it hours ago and come to sit and contemplate his old age.

And maybe he’d taken a nap while he was at it.

Doing nothing was surprisingly exhausting after running S.H.I.E.L.D for a decade.

Plus, there wasn’t much for him to do other than contemplate his choices for the last dozen years. And that wasn’t pretty, but it never had been, and Nick wasn’t the sort to ignore his choices just because they’d turned out badly. Take the responsibility, fix what you could. It was all anyone could do in the end.

The Wakandans had the camp sorted and organised, arguing, chivvying, and collaborating to get a pretty efficient setup going. Those with a martial bent were honing their skills, training in units up on the hill, or sparring with each other under the watchful eyes of the Dora Milaje. The scientifically minded were busy hashing out the possibilities and probabilities of where and what they were now – soul and spirit alone or was there a physical component to it all? A couple were exchanging ideas with Doc Foster, who’d barely turned up for breakfast before retiring to a space which had promptly become ‘her lab’.

Other than the Wakandans, the so-called ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ were fixing their ship, the Avengers were scattered around doing who knew what, and Maria...?

Nick had no idea what Maria was doing. He hadn’t seen her come into the mess hall while he was there this morning. He hadn’t seen her around the camp. He hadn’t looked for her. He wasn’t her keeper – no more than she was his. If she was avoiding him it was no business of his.

“General Fury?”

“That’s my title, don’t wear it out.” He opened his eye when the silence continued. Three Wakandans were regarding him expectantly, and he sighed a little and sat up. “What’s His Majesty want?”

“He asks that you attend him for a meeting. The prisoner – Hela – wishes to make a bargain.”

“Does she now?” Nick shaded his eye against the sun as he looked towards the ‘holding cell’ area that the Wakandans had created within the camp structure. Both Hela and Loki were being kept there – Hela in rather a more restrictive manner than Loki. “Something about letting her go, I imagine?”

“That was not vouchsafed me, General,” said the speaker. Nick struggled to remember his name, then recalled it – D’Maluu – one of the higher ranked Wakandan officers who’d turned up here. Friendly with Barnes. “But his Majesty felt that your experience was necessary in these dealings.”

“Okay.” Nick had been enjoying sitting in the sun, but duty called. And he wasn’t about to shirk it. He didn’t groan as he stood, but it was close. His hips and back were not happy at moving; well, and they never were anymore, were they? Damned aging was no fun; although it was, as the saying went, better than the alternative.

The younger man started to assist him, then halted as D’Maluu gave a tiny shake of his head and spoke, “If any of your injuries are paining you, General, new or old, there are those with medical experience who would be glad to take a look.”

“That’s a very fine offer,” he said. “But it’s just me growing old. Nothing to be done about that.”

“Nothing but alleviation,” offered the younger one – Gakulla, maybe?

Nick fixed him with a sharp and wary eye, trying to work out if they were cosseting him, or if it was just an offer they’d made because that was the kind of people they were. It could be tricky telling with the Wakandans – they were at once a very open society of people, while being very inscrutable.

 _Sounds like some people I know,_ Maria had said when he’d mentioned it to her.

Nick had taken that as the compliment and the chiding it was intended to be.

He wondered if the Wakandans had thought about bringing Maria in. Or maybe they had, and she’d rebuffed them with that _I’m not doing this anymore_ bullshit.

Either way, Nick wasn’t under any illusions: Hela wasn’t his prisoner, it wasn’t his interrogation. Being called in for experience wasn’t the same as commanding the business, and he was too old not to know it. If they hadn’t called Maria, then he wasn’t going to suggest it.

They crossed the camp, passing various people along the way. Nick spotted Wilson and Maximoff in a conversation with the Spiderkid, saw Barnes making his way across the camp with one of the Dora Milaje, and various Wakandans coming and going – to the kitchens, up the trail to the _Milano_ , or out of the camp area to...wherever it was they were going. Something about exploring the land and seeking local foods, maybe. He hadn’t inquired too closely, instead deciding to focus on how to get out of here.

Except he surely wasn’t doing much of that, either.

Well, he’d see what this thing with Hela brought.

T’Challa and several of his people were waiting a little way outside the holding cell area, talking among themselves.

“...and the White Wolf is there? That is best. He knows what to look for and will take action if needed.” T’Challa turned to greet Nick. “Good morning, General. We regret to rouse you from your contemplations, but this matter seems in your line of expertise.”

“I appreciate the call out. What’s Hela’s bargain?”

“She believes she knows where Thanos has gone to ground. In exchange for her freedom, she is willing to tell us where and lead us there.” T’Challa glanced at the cool-eyed woman standing back from her king with a quick smile. “The Dora Milaje believe she is lying and are standing firm against even hearing her offer.”

“Not even listening to her?”

“She will tell us nothing of use. And any gift she gives will surely come with poisoned claws. We have spoken with the Valkyrie and that is her nature. She will do anything that brings bloodshed, for she revels in such.”

“The Valkyrie carries something of a grudge, though. With good reason. And if we know what Hela’s peddling, then we can avoid it.”

“You would advise hearing her out?”

“Listening costs nothing,” Nick remarked “I always listen. Doesn’t mean I always heed.”

T’Challa looked to Commander Ayo, who shrugged and threw up her hands. “You will do as you will do, my king. And I know this quiet troubles you – that we are here and doing what you perceive as nothing when Wakanda is far away and we do not know how they fare – but acting rashly is never wise.”

There was something more in the warning – some message that passed over Nick’s head, private between king and subject – but T’Challa only nodded.

“Than we shall act with caution and restraint and care, hearing her out but not heeding.”

When T’Challa gestured for Nick to walk with him to the holding cell, Ayo intervened. “Do we not await Commander Hill?”

“The Commander is...not available.”

“She still sleeps,” offered one of the women a step behind them. When Ayo frowned, she added, “I did not disturb her. But she breathed and did not seem in distress. So far as can been seen, it is just sleep.”

Nick frowned a little. Oversleeping wasn’t typical of Maria; she was usually a crack-of-dawn person. Then again, she’d seemed...tired lately, pale and washed out and drawn-looking - ever since he’d called her up for assistance with a situation in Hong Kong. Nick hadn’t commented on her state of health, just eased back his plans to a less intense level. No point in running her into the ground for things that could wait.

She hadn’t made any snarky comments about him babying her, so either she hadn’t noticed – unlikely – or things had been rough enough that she needed that time to recover.

Either way, Maria’s state of health was not for Nick to comment on - certainly not to the Wakandans – even if her rejection yesterday had stung more than he expected.

She’d made a point of turning her back and walking away – from the problems that needed to be solved, from the others, from him. Nick had seen enough burnout cases to know to give time out when an agent wanted it. He had no problem with time out. This was different.

He’d go up and see her later, he thought. Hold a conversation about everything and nothing – or try to, since they’d never done very well at inanities – and see how she was. He owed her that, even if he was still stinging from yesterday. And while he was there, he’d pick her brain about whatever turned out with Hela, because Maria would have thoughts on it even if she didn’t want to. She was too well-trained to do otherwise.

Well, and so was Nick.

Some Wakandan with a droll and wicked sense of humor – or perhaps Ms Maximoff herself – had cobbled a throne out of rubble for Hela to sit on. It looked suspiciously like the Iron Throne of Westeros – very spiky around the edges – but it was also a little bit sunk into the ground, so Hela might be sitting on a throne, but she’d be looking up at anyone standing and interrogating her.

“Took you long enough,” she said in an insolently bored tone that set Nick’s back up.

Apparently it didn’t sit well with the Wakandan guards either. The spear tip hummed blue as the nearest guard prodded Hela. “Courtesy to your betters!”

“I’m the Queen of Asgard. I have no betters.”

“We’re not big on rank where I come from,” Nick heard himself say. “Character counts for a lot – and didn’t your own father decide that yours wasn’t trustworthy?”

“My father was so terrified of losing his power and his empire to his daughter, that he imprisoned her for some ten thousand years.” Hela’s blue gaze glittered. “Hardly an excellent judge of character.”

“Considering your first move once he died was to start to take over the galaxy with a zombie army,” Nick noted dryly, “his judgement wasn’t entirely off the mark. So you’ll understand if we’re a little wary at whatever you claim to be offering us.”

Hela’s gaze flicked from him to T’Challa. “And you—King of your country? You’re just going to let him do all the talking?”

Nick looked at T’Challa. T’Challa shrugged. “Being King of my people means knowing when they are better suited to the work that must be done and allowing them to carry it out..”

“So he’s a lackey, then?”

“How about we get down to the bargain,” Nick said, smoothly. He’d been called worse in his time at S.H.I.E.L.D, “You’re offering to find Thanos for us? In exchange for your freedom?”

“In exchange for being let out of these restraints, and given the chance to get back at Thanos.” Her eyes glittered. “Because he was definitely involved in my imprisonment.”

“The betrayer betrayed?” Ayo inquired.

“I never betrayed my father,” Hela flashed back. Then she smiled, like a cat who knew perfectly well what it had just done. “Exceeded his expectations on occasion, perhaps.”

“How, exactly, did you plan to find Thanos?”

“I know his secrets.”

“You’ve been separated for several thousand years, during which time he built an army strong enough to start attacking planets and cutting their populations in half, and worked out how to create something that could wield the power of the Infinity stones. And you want us to believe you know where he’s gone?”

Hela smiled. “Some things don’t change.”

“A lot of things do.”

“This wouldn’t.”

“Uhuh.” Nick gave her credit for certainty. “You’re going to have to give us more information than that.”

“What will you give me in return? You can’t expect something for nothing. In fact,” she purred, “an intelligent man like you, I’m sure you don’t.”

“Depends on what kind of information you give us to start with,” he said, completely ignoring the flattery. _Flattery will get you everywhere_ , his Ma had been wont to say all those years ago. _But it’ll turn your head and trip you up, too._

“And that depends on what level of detail you want.”

“The basics. Planet name, specific planetary location. How you expect to be able to locate Thanos, let alone overpower him. What we can expect to meet if we go to his planet. Are there security measures? Planetary defences? Armies? Does he have private security forces? Oh,” he added, as though just thinking of it, “and how do you plan to get us from in here to out there, because the last I recall, we all crumbled to dust and died.”

Her mouth pursed in grudging amusement. For a woman who’d been Odin’s daughter, a princess, and his Warlord – or whatever her title had been – she wasn’t very good at impassive. Then again, with the power she wielded – both politically and on the battlefield, she hadn’t needed to be impassive. What the Asgardian Princess wanted, the Asgardian Princess probably got.

But Princess or no, she hadn’t become feared by Odin by being a pushover.

“You won’t get locations until I’m free. But just to sweeten the deal, think about this: my power came from Asgard – as did Odin’s and all of his offspring. So long as Asgard thrived, so did Odin’s bloodlines. Why should we have been the only ones to do such a thing?”

T’Challa shifted. “Thanos also tied his power to a planet’s civilisation?”

“He made what I thought was a foolish choice.” Her lip curled; she seemed both amused unamused at the reminder of her own folly. “As it turned out, his choice was rather less risky.”

Nick caught the eye of the nearest guard and gave a slight twitch of his head, then walked out of the holding cell, being sure to move well out of earshot. He heard the Wakandans following him away.

“Do you think she speaks truth?”

“I think she wants to be free,” Nick said. “She’ll dangle what she needs to in front of us in order to gain our compliance. But yeah, I think she’s telling the truth about the location, although you might want to cross-check that with Quill’s lot. They might know or have heard something about Thanos.”

T’Challa looked at Ayo who rolled her eyes and shrugged at him. “You will do what you will do,” she said sourly. “But we will not like it.”

“I’m missing something.”

“If there is a mission to deal with Thanos,” T’Challa said, “I wish to be involved.”

“And your people aren’t so hot on the idea.”

He wasn’t Wakandan and would never be counted as one, no matter how they respected his skills and knowledge, but he could see perfectly well that it wasn’t a good thing for a leader to be risking himself on missions when there were others who were just as capable. Which T’Challa ought to know after two years of ruling, and yet here he was chomping away at the leash...

“Nothing’s been decided yet.” And Nick wanted a few more opinions before anything went anywhere. “We need to talk to the Valkyrie. She’s our best source of intel on Hela. And Doc Foster needs to work out exactly what it is that the Aether’s possession gave her, because that’s what Hela wanted from her and once we know that, we have leverage.”

He paused at the exit from the prison, then realised something. “I didn’t see Loki in there.”

“He was vouched for by the Valkyrie and deemed safe enough to be let loose to wander. Dr. Strange promised to watch him.”

Right. Dr. Strange. One more oddity wandering the Titan landscape.

“Is anyone watching Doc Foster?”

“The White Wolf volunteered, and one of the Dora Milaje went to discuss matters of science and wormhole theory with her,” said Ayo dryly. “Najira was most delighted to find someone who similarly does not care for matters of time, appointments, or meals in the pursuit of the universe’s truths.”

“Known a couple of those in my time.”

Standing out in the main thoroughfare through the camp, Nick contemplated the sky, then glanced over towards the section of the camp that had been set up as a ‘mess hall’. Ayo came to stand beside him, T’Challa having fallen back to speak with a Wakandan who’d come up to him.

“Did you wish to speak with the Valkyrie?”

“Not yet.” Behind them, a conversation was happening in tense tones. He glanced back and was arrested by the grimness in T’Challa’s expression. “What is it?”

T’Challa saw him looking. “Dr. Foster has vanished – disintegrated, D’Xolo says.”

“Disintegrated?”

The man lifted his chin. “It was as like to when we came here. Falling to the dust of the earth, blown away by winds that we felt not.”

A chill ran down Nick’s nape. “Just the Doc? Wasn’t Barnes keeping an eye on her? And one of your people? Did they disintegrate, too?”

“No,” said the Wakandan who’d brought the news. His expression was arrested, but sure as he spoke. “Najira remains, and the White Wolf also. But Quill of the Guardians was arguing with Dr. Foster and he also blew away to dust.”

“Call everyone in,” T’Challa said authoritatively. “Although if it is Dr. Foster and the Guardian Quill, then I do not think we’ll find anyone else missing.”

Nick was getting a sense of deep foreboding about this. “How long have they been gone?” Then he saw Wilson and Barnes coming towards him, Parker trailing in their wake.

“Only a few minutes,” said D’Xolo. “But the manner of their going...”

The expression on Wilson’s face was grim. “I guess we’re missing a few people?”

“The Doc and Quill.” Nick looked him in the eye. “Who else?”

“Maria.”

“Disintegrated?”

“Yeah. We’d just gotten her up – Doc Foster wanted her assistance – something about having someone who understood her processes. And she’d been asleep a while and...well, we got her awake, put a cup of coffee in her hand, and just about to eat something, and then Mister White Wolf here came with the news that the Doc had gone poof.”

Barnes shot Wilson a brief glare for the moniker. Nick ignored the by-play as he turned to Barnes. “You saw the Doc go?”

“She and Quill were arguing over what they were going to try – she’d been testing what she could do in terms of changing reality and wanted the booster that Quill’s assistance provided—”

“And vanished herself and Quill – and Hill?” Nick frowned. “Did Hill vanish at the same time?”

“No.” Barnes said immediately. “Because I saw the Doc and Quill vanish, went to find Hill and Wilson, and _then_ Hill vanished.”

“You think it’s related?”

“It’s definitely related,” Nick said, moving past them and heading for the ‘mess hall’ area. “Question is how.” And unfortunately the person he would have most preferred to have putting the pieces together with him had just become one of the puzzles.

He was halfway to the area, when there was a startled shriek and a sudden bubble of noise through the camp.

Nick turned in time to see Maria wobble on her feet and grab for Jane’s shoulder. She steadied herself for a moment, but her hand pressed to her middle and her eyes closed, as though fighting a sudden bout of motion sickness.

Beyond them, Quill staggered a few steps, then turned on Doc Foster, who shot him an annoyed look and spoke to Maria instead. After a moment, Maria opened her eyes and shook her head. Then she blew out a breath and pulled herself up on her own steam, looking around.

Wilson was already heading towards them. Nick watched the flow of people towards the trio, shrugged and continued heading for the mess hall. Someone was going to tell him what was going on sooner or later, and they were definitely going to need more coffee.

“What is the noise?”

B’Suve was an older Wakandan from the River tribe - old enough to have grandkids of his own, and an easygoing, cheerful type who made garrulous talk and winkled all a man’s secrets out in his easy chattiness.

He was ladling coffee from a deep cooking pot into mugs. Nick indicated the pot and the coffee. “Where’d that come from?”

“Dr. Foster was kind enough to supply us with food – with the assistance of the _Milano’s_ systems.”

“She can do that?”

“She was testing what she could do. We asked for supplies. Utensils. Pots. Coffee. Important things.” The man grinned, brilliant and with that touch of feral that he’d learned to expect from the Wakandans. “The coffee is terrible – you Americans have no taste – but nobody has died of it.”

“Well, give it time.” Nick saw no problem with the American coffee, but he was brought up with the stuff. Doubtless the Wakandans were more discerning in their tastes. “You’ll probably want to start another batch – there’ll be people coming in.” Quickly, he explained what had happened this morning.

“So I’ll be needing helpers?” B’Suve said something in Wakandan to the group of youths who were sitting at a nearby table, and they promptly stood and started moving around what looked very much like a giant sack of Starbucks coffee beans.

Nick took the mugs B’Suve had ladled out, paused to survey the situation, then walked over to where Maria had just plunked herself down on one of the stools the Wakandans formed out of rubble. “Good morning.”

She looked at the mug, then at him. After a moment, she took the mug from him. “Thanks.”

As she took the first sip, Nick allowed himself to relax a little. Apology accepted and absolution given – both ways. And he’d made the coffee just as she liked it: thick and black with one heaped spoon of sugar. By the second swallow, she seemed...steadier. Less like she was about to throw up.

He sat down, claiming a seat without apology. “I take it jumping places isn’t as easy as Doc Foster makes it sound?”

“We didn’t just go somewhere else,” Maria set the mug down on her knee. “We went back.”

“Back where?” It struck him then, as few things ever had. “Back to the real world?”

“Technically, it’s the real _universe._ ” Foster sat down nearby. “And we don’t _know_ that we made it back to reality.”

Maria gave her the death stare of ‘you’re kidding me, right’ which had cowed many an agent. Doc Foster was made of sterner stuff. “I admit, the lack of the camp and the Nova Corps in the sky makes for a persuasive argument,” the Doc said as others came up to the table, curious about the disappearing act that had left them all bewildered and a little panicked. “But we still don’t _know_.”

“The real world?”

“The Nova Corps?”

“Lucy, I think you got some ‘splainin’ to do,” Wilson murmured.

 


	8. Chapter 8

“How about you start from the beginning,” Nick told the Doc. “Starting with whatever testing got you to such a point in the first place.”

It turned out that Doc Foster, bored with making coffee and whiteboard markers, had figured she’d try to skip town – or, at least, change her surroundings. She managed to take herself from the camp in Titan to where the Wakandans had first found her, wandering out in the hills. Then she took herself and the Wakandan woman Najira first to Stark Tower in New York and then Najira’s home village in Wakanda. Both places had been silent and empty, with nobody around – or, at least, nobody willing to come out.

“We didn’t stay long,” the Doc said. “It was very creepy and not somewhere that you’d want to be. That was when I realized I needed someone who’d been on planets other than Earth and Asgard, which was apparently turned over to some guy who’s basically the king of Hell so Hela wouldn’t gain enough power to take over the galaxy.” She frowned. “How do you tie your power in to a planet, anyway?”

Nick had been wondering exactly the same thing, particularly after the tidbit Hela had dropped this morning.

He glanced at T’Challa, who was standing with a dozen Wakandans, all of them listening, their expressions carefully neutral, keeping their thoughts to themselves. All right, then.

Wilson, Barnes, Parker, and Maximoff formed a little Avengers-focused group off to the side, listening intently. Quill had his feet planted, his expression faintly sulky, while his team rallied around him.

“I figured that, with Quill’s assistance, I might be able to try other planets. And,” she added, “it took both of us to vanquish the zombies last night, so I thought that he might be some kind of augment which would help if there was a distance limit—”

“I told you, I’m a Celestial. And you pulled me off the work I was doing on the _Milano_!”

“You weren’t getting anything done!”

“We were working out what needed doing!”

“Standing around arguing with your friends?” Foster said cynically. “I asked for an hour of your time, and your friends even said they could spare you and get started on any repairs that needed doing.”

“You grabbed me!”

“I touched your shoulder when you turned away,” she retorted. “And told you...”

The Doc faltered. Even Quill went a little pale as he stared at her.

“Told me to get my head in the real world.”

“Apparently you did.” Maria crossed her legs and wrapped her hands around the mug of coffee. “Both of you did.”

Quill huffed. “Everything...faded out, then faded back in again. Except we were back at the place where we’d first encountered Stark and Strange and him.” He gestured at Parker. “And we couldn’t seem to get anywhere else.”

“So where did Commander Hill come into it?” Ayo asked. “Since she vanished after you, and there was outcry.”

“That was probably me.” Doc Foster lifted a hand, looking sheepish. “I...wanted someone I knew could deal with this kind of situation. And, well, Thor wasn’t available.”

“Second choice after Thor,” Wilson quipped. “That’s not bad.”

“You weren’t gone long, either,” Nick remarked, watching Maria’s face. “Maybe a couple of minutes?”

“Yes. About that...” Maria looked around. “How long would you say we’ve been here?”

There was silence as everyone digested the unexpected question.

“Uh...a day?” Parker ventured.

“How long would you say it takes to get from wherever the Nova Corps are stationed to Titan?” She looked to Quill and his crew.

“It is half a standard day to Titan from Knowhere,” said the woman with the antennae. “And that is taking all the risky routes.”

“ _I am Groot!_ ”

“Not everyone knows that,” Quill said shortly. “It’s a full two days from the heart of the Nova Empire to Titan. But why’s it matter?”

Maria shrugged. “I was sitting here drinking my coffee and listening to Sam and Wanda talking when I found myself disintegrating – just like in New York. Next thing I know, I’m standing in a waste landscape that looks a lot like Titan, but with no sign of anyone else. And then I heard Jane and Quill arguing. How long had you been there at that point?”

They looked at each other. “It felt like a couple of hours,” Jane said, then looked at Najira.

“Ten minutes at most,” Najira said.

“Twelve minutes.” When they looked at him, Barnes shrugged. “I happened to see the time just before they left and just before they got back.”

“I gather I was only missing a few minutes, then?” Sam nodded when Maria looked at him. “Because I turned up in the middle of what looked like Titan, found Jane and Quill arguing, and while I’m still trying to work out what we’re doing there, the Nova Corps turns up. They were a little surprised to see Quill – I think it put a dent in their plans to shoot us dead – but they started demanding to know where Thanos is, including bringing their weapons to bear.”

“They wouldn’t have shot us. They didn’t even have firing solutions.”

“And I’m supposed to know that? I told Jane to get us out of there – to think of the camp and the workspace she’d set up. And the camp just...faded in again.”

“So you went to reality and came back.” Nick considered this as conversations broke out around them. “You’re sure?”

“It felt...heavier is the wrong word,” Maria frowned. “But it’s the closest one I have. ‘Realer’ maybe – if that was even a word. Everything here feels a little dull, like there’s a haze over it all. But watching the Nova Corps bring out their weapons was...very real.”

“I can imagine.”

“Uh, Miz Hill?” Parker dropped his hand, as though only just realising he wasn’t in school. “Why did you want to know about how long it takes the Nova Corps to get to Titan?”

“I wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but I’m pretty sure at least ten to fifteen minutes passed on the other Titan. Jane and Quill said they felt like hours went by when only ten minutes did. And given that the Valkyrie said Thanos destroyed the Nova Corps to get the first of the Infinity stones before he went after the Asgardians, I’m wondering where they hid the three or four helicarrier equivalents, carrying a couple of dozen fighters, all of them looking factory-reset new.”

Nick was beginning to follow her thought. “If they’d had them when Thanos attacked, why didn’t they bring them out then? And if they didn’t, then they’ve had the time out there to rebuild their army.”

“It’s only been a day,” someone protested.

“It’s only been a day _in here,_ ” said Doc Foster pointedly. “Out there, who knows how many months have passed.”

“Months?”

“If we were gone fifteen minutes but we experienced several hours, then... yes, months. Although I really want to know how the relativity of matter works with the transfer between the ‘real world’ and here, because the entropic energy of our bodies should have been at odds with the entropic energy of the universe when we returned—”

Nick was only vaguely paying attention. Maria’s expression had turned stiff and her throat was working. She put the coffee cup sharply down, and took a deep breath, her hand pressed over her mouth.

Jane broke off, looking concerned, but Maria stood and pushed through the crowd, walking with the swift intensity of someone who didn’t want to be halted or stopped.

Barnes glanced after her. “Should we—?”

“I’ll take this.” Nick stood.

Following Maria a little way away from the others, Nick kept between her and the others, giving her what privacy he could. She headed for the edge of the space, towards one edge with some larger pieces of rubble which she gripped, white-knuckled as she leaned over. The retching noises that followed needed no explanation.

Nick stopped a few yards away and turned his back, surveying the orange-tinged sky and waiting for her to finish. She wouldn’t want an audience, and she wouldn’t want questions. But when the noises stopped and he heard her sigh, he half-turned and offered her his handkerchief to wipe her mouth with.

“Guess that explains how the relativity of matter works with regards to entropic energy,” he said dryly.

She snorted, hacked for a moment, and spat, then took the handkerchief. “Thanks.”

“You okay?”

“I’ve stopped throwing up.”

“The Wakandans have water if you want to rinse out your mouth.” He indicated towards the cooking area of the space.

“I know.” She wiped her mouth and started over. “What did you want to say but not in front of the others?”

He thought about telling her about Hela, then decided that was better left to the Wakandans. Besides, she didn’t need anything else on her plate if she was struggling with sickness and she’d already said she was done with world security. “You’ve been looking peaky since we got here.”

He felt her withdrawal from the conversation. “Being dead does that to you.”

“You really think that months have passed while we’re here?”

“I try not to.” They’d reached the water filter and she poured herself a cup and drank it without looking at Nick. “You said you called in help.”

“Huh?”

“When I first woke up here, you mentioned that you’d called for help. Not the Avengers, though. Someone who wasn’t the first responder team.” She paused, as though waiting for him to step in. When he didn’t, she continued. “I never thought about that until recently – that the first responders are mostly there to hold the line until the big guns can be brought in. Like everyone else, I assumed the Avengers _were_ the big guns.” The accusation in her eyes was sharp as a dagger. “They’re not, are they?”

“No.” He settled his hip more firmly on the piece of rubble he’d been leaning against. “She came from Earth originally. A military-grade pilot back in the days when women weren’t commissioned in the air, flying experimental jetcraft engines for top secret military science - or so she thought. Some kind of new tech that went...weird. Some kind of electrical disturbance, combined with an ‘inexperienced’ pilot,” Nick indicated the quotation marks with his fingers, “and the plane crashed and burned. Billions of dollars worth of tech twisted and blistered into fragments, and the black box never saw the light of day. Six years later, a meteor makes a mess of a Blockbuster Video - only it’s not a meteor, it’s a woman. A noble warrior hero, Vers. Only, turns out she was originally Carol Danvers, Air Force Captain, rebadged to be a Kree soldier.”

“And what she’d become fell under S.H.I.E.L.D’s bourne?”

“In more ways than one. Turns out the scientist who had her flying experimental craft was also an alien - a Kree.”

Maria blinked. “The T.A.H.I.T.I alien?”

“That one exactly.” Nick shrugged. “You’ve read the file we have on the Kree, such as it is. They’re empire builders; only it turns out they’re also in the habit of genocide and eradication of the aliens that won’t submit to them.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Well, people gonna be people. But the Kree scientist - Lawson was the name she’d adopted from Earth – chose to help a group of Skrull refugees - shapeshifters - find a new home, and had been developing a power source from the Tesseract.”

“The experimental jet engine?”

“Exactly. Which the Kree found and Danvers – human at the time – tried to destroy when she realized that Lawson hadn’t made it to help the empire. Only it rebounded against her and she absorbed the power from the source. So the Kree took her, brainwashed her, tried to make her into good little Kree soldier, Vers. The brainwashing took some - enough that she was accepted into their military - but once she landed on Earth, all the bets were off. Especially once she realized that she came from here. She remembered who she was, what she’d been, learned what she could do.” Nick snorted. “She helped out the remaining refugees, destroyed a Kree destroyer in space above Earth just by flying through it, then sent the remainder away with their tail between their legs.”

She’d changed his life.

He’d been a little world-weary, mission-tired, no longer quite believing in the need of what S.H.I.E.L.D was doing – magical artifacts locked away so that no-one would see or touch or be tempted by them, hints and rumors of oddities and strange sights, the occasional mad scientist trying to repeat Abraham Erskine’s experiments...

The Cold War was over and done. Russia was scraping itself back together politically, and the various departments of magical sciences and scientific advancements had been closed down and squirrelled away. Even the infamous Black Widow biomodification project had gone silent, its trainers and subjects fled or dead.

Nick had been wondering if maybe it was time to get out of it all.

And then Danvers had come along, with her laser tag rubber suit and her very human humor, and the realization of just how much more there was out in the universe had jolted Nick out of his lethargy.

In a way, he owed the last twenty-four years of his life to that encounter. Everything he’d made of S.H.I.E.L.D, everything he’d succeeded at; he’d never have done if not for her. The realization that there were bigger things in the universe, more than was dreamed of in heaven and earth.

“We had an agreement – if something threatened Earth: something more than S.H.I.E.L.D or anything we set up could handle, she’d come if I called.”

“And you called.”

“I tried.” Tried and died. “Didn’t last long enough to see if it made it through. Guess not, seeing as we’re still here.”

“I guess not.” Maria stared out at the landscape. “So...we can go back, but not all of us. And even if we do...the universe will still be broken.”

“But we’ll be alive.”

“For how long?” Her smile was tired and bitter. “New York was abandoned. Wakanda wasn’t much better. Half a population’s a lot of skills, a lot of knowledge, a lot of breaks along the supply chain. What’s left turns everyone into scavengers.”

“The Avengers—”

“Are a first response team, not a crisis response.”

“Stark technology could handle crisis response.”

“Maybe.” Maria looked at him. “But we both know that Tony doesn’t do loss well, and his tech reflects that.”

“Rogers will manage.”

“Steve will do what he can – and that’s a lot – but he’s still just one man.”

“One man with the Avengers and the Wakandans.”

“It’s still a handful of people in three billion – a drop in the bucket. And they’ll be coping with the loss of the other half of the world, too.”

Nick studied her, the folded arms, the closed-in pose. He wanted to ask if she counted herself in that half of the world lost to the Avengers. After all, Rogers didn’t do loss well, either. He doubted he’d get an answer – certainly not a straight one. For all their long association with each other, asking such a question just wasn’t them. But neither was her attitude right now.

“When did you become such a pessimist?”

She shrugged. “Around the time we lost.”

“Ever heard the one where it’s not over ‘til it’s over?”

“We’re dead. We’ve been dead for maybe a year now. I think it’s pretty over.”

“Maybe not.” She looked at him. “Hela claims she knows where Thanos has gone.”

For a few seconds, there was silence. Then, her expression went alert, the color of her eyes deepening as she looked at him. “When did this happen?”

“You’d have known earlier if you’d been awake.” He refused to feel guilty about it. “The Wakandans were planning to call you in, but you were sleeping, so they left you.”

“I see. And in exchange for telling us where Thanos has gone, she wants...?”

“She wants to go with us when we go up against Thanos.”

“ _If_ we do.”

Nick frowned. “Why wouldn’t we? We’ve got nothing to lose at this point – not even our lives. And if we got hold of the Infinity Gauntlet, we might just be able to change things around.”

“Is that what you’re planning? Find Thanos, get the Infinity Gauntlet off him, and revert everything back to the way it was?”

“You got a better idea?”

In the silence that followed, he watched her. Her struggle wasn’t obvious, but he’d been watching her for the last dozen years, and he knew how her mind worked. Pride wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when most people thought of Maria Hill, but it was the first thing Nick had noticed about her as a new recruit to S.H.I.E.L.D. Not pride in herself and what she could do, but pride in a job done well.

Losing the world wasn’t a job done well.

“No,” she said at last. “I don’t.”

“Then you’ll help me get this mission off the ground?”

The smile was humorless. “Do I get a choice?”

“There’s always a choice.”

She closed her eyes, and the fold of her arms shifted subtly, so it was more like she was wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. “All right,” she said at last. “Let’s do it.”


	9. Chapter 9

Setting the mission objective was easy. Co-ordination was always the difficult part, which was why Nick valued having Maria onboard.

Hela refused to give any further details about Thanos’ home planet, simply restating that they’d be given the name of the place when they set her free.

“And she will stick to that,” Ayo said grimly as they walked out. “Like a tigress with prey for her cubs. Yet we cannot plan the mission without the planet.”

Maria looked out across the camp. “So we set her free, but put the Valkyrie on her.”

“And if she kills Hela?”

“She won’t.”

“So sure of her, are you?”

“No. But she was a commander of troops before she turned mercenary. So tell her what we’re doing and why it’s important. Give her a reason to stay her hand, and add the possibility of outsmarting her. And then point out that when we’re done, she can hunt Hela to her heart’s content if that’s what she wants to do.”

Nick liked it. It was cold but practical, and it _worked_.

When they took it to the Valkyrie, she eyed Maria thoughtfully – and, Nick thought, somewhat appreciatively, too – and said, “If she makes one wrong move – _one_ – I’ll kill her without regret.”

“If she makes one wrong move, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Hela was less enamored of this course of action. “This is outrageous! I am a Princess of Asgard—”

“You _were_ a Princess of Asgard,” Nick pointed out lazily. Was it petty to watch her eyes fire with resentment? Damn straight. It was also more than a little enlivening. “Or didn’t I hear some tell about Odin kicking you out?”

“My father—”

“Was an asshole,” Maria cut through the icy snipe with steely-eyed cool. “Join the club. I hear there are meetings on Tuesdays but I don’t attend.” She gave Wanda a nod, and the bindings around Hela’s wrists and ankles vanished. “They’ll come back the instant you raise a hand against anyone here, or cast any kind of a spell, or take up any kind of a weapon.”

Hela rubbed her wrists. “And how am I supposed to defend myself if trouble comes?”

“You don’t.” The Valkyrie said from the side, and tapped the Wakandan spear she’d appropriated off one of the warriors. “ _I_ do.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“I find it very comforting,” purred the Valkyrie.

Then there was the issue of how many people were going on the mission.

They were in the mess hall, sitting and standing around a table that had been set up as a briefing area. Everyone with an interest had been called over, and it was crowded, but not crammed.

Wilson and the other Avengers were clustered along one edge – Wilson, Barnes, Maximoff, and the Spiderkid. There seemed to be some kind of discussion taking place, with Barnes and Maximoff on one side, Wilson on the other, and the Spiderkid looking like he wanted to be anywhere but in the middle of it.

Quill and his team were sitting at one corner, arguing with the adolescent tree, who seemed to be giving then sass equal to that of any know-it-all Academy graduate Nick had ever had to deal with. The Antenna Lady was trying not to laugh and failing, but Big Blue seemed less than amused, and Quill seemed to be sulking.

Doc Foster was chatting with the Wakandan astrophysicist.

Strange was nowhere to be seen.

Hela, meanwhile, looked completely bored, as though all this was entirely beneath her, while the Valkyrie stood over her shoulder. Hela’s pose seemed casual, but Nick had no doubt she was cataloguing everything going on around her.

In comparison to the casual groupings of the others, the Wakandans stood neatly arrayed behind T’Challa, the scarlet uniforms of the Dora Milaje dotting their blue and brown armor. They’d swiftly realized that several hundred people trying to watch the briefing would be too unwieldy, so they’d sorted themselves into units of around twenty men. Each unit had a leader, who was attending the meeting, and it was those men who stood behind their seated king now.

Nick appreciated the organisation, as well as that there were maybe fifty unit leaders, easy. The more the merrier, and they’d need all the help they could get in his opinion.

Not so in Maria’s.

“It’s an attack on a core stronghold,” Nick said when she noted that there were too many people present for the mission. “We’re gonna need people.”

“It’s an insertion and retrieval,” Maria countered. “The goal is to acquire the gauntlet, above and beyond anything else. Any sign of an attack would have him reaching for it, and we can’t afford that.”

“It’s Thanos,” Quill said bitterly. “He might enjoy watching us scramble to defeat him – before he reveals that he had the glove from the start and it was all a lie.”

Nick looked at the Guardian from Earth. That seemed out of left field. Then again, Quill wasn’t exactly on board with this mission. Nick couldn’t tell if it was because of the connection with Doc Foster or because he’d apparently already faced Thanos a couple of times and come off worst in both situations.

Although, keeping in mind what the Antenna Lady had said earlier about Quill interrupting the attack on Thanos for vengeance, taking him along might not be such a good idea after all...

“Then we’ll have to take that chance,” Maria pointed out. “If necessary, we can call for reinforcements, but the core team is going to be small.”

“So you will not be using any of our people, then?” Ayo’s tone was polite and just a little frosty.

“We never said that,” Nick temporized, keeping irritation out of his voice. Accustomed to working it out behind the scenes before presenting a united front at a briefing, he’d been unpleasantly surprised by Maria’s decision to call the purpose of the mission into question right now. It was a complication they didn’t need in the face of T’Challa’s impatience to be doing something, along with his people’s restlessness. “Of course, if you have people with intrusion and insertion skills – any of the _Hatut Zeraze_ – then they’d get priority.”

“The War Dogs were not in the battle of Wakanda,” Ayo informed them. “They were doing their job when Thanos attacked, and so were not brought here with the rest of the battalions. There may be one or two Dora Milaje who have experience dealing with the War Dogs, but they are otherwise not skilled so.”

That was unfortunate. They could have done with someone who had intelligence experience – particularly of the clandestine kind.

On the other hand, Wakandan technology might come in very useful before all this was over.

“So how were you thinking to organize this, then?” Nick asked Maria.

“A small group with specialized skills to go in, retrieve the gauntlet, and come back here. Only once we have the glove can we contemplate doing anything retaliatory – but the priority should be the gauntlet. Anything else is spending time and energy that we don’t have.”

The noise had quietened a little, enough that people were starting to pay attention to their discussion.

“If we have this window of opportunity to attack Thanos, then we should use it!” That was one of the Wakandan men. “Anything less is a waste!”

“Anything more than getting hold of the gauntlet is a waste,” Maria replied. “We’ve been here a day and a half, but months – maybe years – have passed out there. That’s to our advantage,” she added as murmurs rose, “because if Thanos hasn’t been found and attacked yet, then he’s probably gotten complacent. He succeeded at his goal of reducing the population by half and he’s retired to his safe planet.”

“And what does Hela think?”

Hela was sitting with her hands resting on the table, her lip curled in disdain like a bored socialite at a board meeting. She bestirred herself to answer, but indolently. “He might have gone out a number of times to check on his planets and his armies. Or to get a feel for what’s happening out in the universe. He always liked knowing what was happening, even if he wasn’t involved in any of it.”

“Will he take the gauntlet with him wherever he goes?”

“He might.” She shrugged carelessly. “Given what it’s cost him to acquire the stones, he’s not going to leave it behind.”

“So we might turn up and find nobody home?”

“We might.” Hela’s smile showed no teeth, but the way she smiled it didn’t need to. “In which case, we’ll just use the finders to locate him.”

“The finders?”

She indicated Doc Foster and Quill.

“You can do that?”

“We can do that?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if it couldn’t be done.”

On one hand, the answer was perfectly reasonable. On the other, there was something about the way she said it that was bugging him. Nick made a note of it, but put it aside. Time for second guessing later.

“Then what are we organizing, if not an attack?”

“A small insertion team,” Maria said. “Priority given to previous experience in dealing with Thanos, and specialty skills.”

“You propose, in short, to exclude Wakanda from this mission.” One of the men standing just behind T’Challa voiced the question, and while the king’s expression tensed as though regretting the asking, he neither apologised nor shut down the question.

“That’s not the case,” Nick spoke easily into the silence. “We’re gonna need at least a couple of your people who can flexibly deal with any advanced technology that we might encounter.”

That appeased most of the Wakandans, if the nods were any indication; but the king was not one of them. “Our technology is surely not at the level of advancement displayed by even Star-Lord and his kind.”

“No, but the way you think about technology is different to the way most of the rest of us do,” Maria added smoothly. “That’s just as valuable when facing unknown systems and technologies. You’ve also got practice coordinating with each other towards a common goal.” She indicated the mess hall around them, the partitioning of spaces, the blocks and pieces of rubble that had been turned into seats. “That’s just as valuable in dealing with an unknown situation.”

One of the Dora Milaje bent down to murmur something in T’Challa’s ear. He nodded, and his pose eased subtly. “You mentioned reinforcements?”

Had they? Nick glanced at Maria.

“If things go southwards, we might have to call in supplementary troops as a diversionary tactic. So, yes, we may need reinforcements. That’s a secondary consideration, after getting hold of the gauntlet with the Infinity stones.”

“Do you have a plan?”

Barnes was looking at Maria, who was frowning slightly as she looked back at him, so Nick answered for them both. “We’re working on it.”

“We’re all here,” Barnes said, frankly. “There’s no reason not to discuss it. And some things don’t need refining, such as who’s Mission Ops here – you or Hill?”

 _Who’s Mission Ops..._ The phrase was a S.H.I.E.L.D one, used to describe the agent who put the plan together, sorted out the necessary resources, and oversaw the mission itself. Hearing it from Barnes was unexpected. Although, given his previous association with Alex Pierce and various STRIKE team elements – even as the brainwashed Winter Soldier, maybe it shouldn’t have been.

More startling was the challenge implicit in the question: _who’s in charge?_

Nick looked at Maria, who was staring at Barnes like she’d never seen him before. She turned to Nick, eyebrow lifted in question.

“Commander Hill will be overseeing the details of the mission,” he drawled. “Unless you have a problem with that.”

Barnes was watching Maria, and Nick saw her frown faintly at him in warning, before turning back to Nick.

Then her gaze slipped beyond him and her expression set. “Do _you_ have a plan?”

Nick turned to find Strange walking up to the table, his cloak herding Loki resentfully behind him. The Asgardian looked a little bedraggled but proud as ever – Nick could really see the family resemblance with Hela – while the supreme sorcerer looked typically enigmatic.

“Ah, this is the mission to take the glove back, then? I might have a few ideas on that,” he said.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography: _Autobots_ by Steve Jablonsky

Nick watched the Wakandans form up into their squadrons from his vantage point.

 _Good thing you like heights,_ Phil had said the first time he’d come into the Director’s office after Nick had taken the job.

 _The eagle’s eye view has its benefits,_ Nick had answered, not turning away from the view of north-eastern DC.

It also had its disadvantages, which was why it had always benefited the Director to have certain agents he trusted above and beyond all others. That had been Coulson and Blake to begin with. May in that first year. Barton a year after that, then Maria, and a few years later, Natasha.

He didn’t know where Coulson and May were anymore – their little branch of S.H.I.E.L.D had gone dark and quiet, and he’d looked for them in vain. Blake survived HYDRA’s rise but retired shortly after – he’d been old enough to take his pension and run, and Nick hadn’t seen him since then and didn’t blame him one bit. Natasha had followed Rogers into the Avengers. Barton had gone to the Avengers, but eventually retired to his little house on the prairie. Carter had gone to the alphabet soup of national intelligence, as had others, while some – mostly field operatives with trust issues – laid low and fitted themselves into the networks Maria began to build through SI.

None of them had made contact with Nick after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D – even once the news filtered out that he was alive – only Maria.

He wondered what that said about her.

He wondered what that said about him.

Down in the hollow, people were sorting themselves out. Equipment checks, weapons checks, and even a few stretches and twists to unkink bodies.

A tall, solitary figure detached itself from the group and started up the slope to where Nick sat. He made fast work of it in an easy lope that conveyed both the strength and the grace of his representative animal.

“General Fury.”

“Your Majesty.” Nick sidled along the ridge he was leaning against. “Have a seat?”

Maybe it was a little cavalier to be offering the King of Wakanda a seat – that old ‘standing in the presence of royalty’ thing, but Nick figured T’Challa didn’t much care about precedence and standing when it wasn’t a question of respect or formal rank.

And ‘holding the fort with wisdom’ had benefits, too.

“My people are concerned about you. There is a Wakandan proverb: _Old lions have their pride, but young lions must not be driven aside._ ”

A smile found its way to the corner of his mouth. “Sounds reasonable enough.”

“There is a second half to the proverb. _Yet also: we are not lions._ ”

This time, he outright snorted. “So, don’t put aside the oldies, don’t dismiss the young ‘uns, but you do what you got to do when it needs doing?”

“There are those among us who are concerned that you have been sidelined from this mission.”

Nick studied the figures moving around in the hollow below.

The Wakandan cohorts gleamed in brass and blue, bronze and gold, gathered ready to spring into action, even if only three of their number would be going with the insertion team. The Guardians were a mismatched cluster doing a final checklist on the _Milano._ Their knowledge of the ship and their experience of Thanos were their entree on this mission.

Then there were the Avengers and Strange.

Barnes had pointed out that he had the most insertion and retrieval experience of any of them. Maximoff had power of a kind that might actually be able to take Thanos out. Wilson had experience working with both Maximoff and Barnes, as well as military experience of moving through hostile territory. The Spiderkid had argued that he’d taken on Thanos’ lieutenants before coming to Titan with Stark, and then he’d tangled with Thanos, so he should be included. Maria had given him a hard look, hovering on the cusp of refusal, but sighed her assent when Strange caught her eye and gave a slight nod.

Parker’s fistpump wasn’t exactly tactful, but his youth provided suitable excuse.

Strange had included himself.

“ _You’ll need me_ ,” he’d said in tones that brooked no refusal, although he wouldn’t say how they’d need him – just like he wouldn’t say exactly what they had to do to get the gauntlet. Whether that was the clairvoyant’s curse, or just that he didn’t know and wished to keep his inscrutability, Nick had no idea, but it very well might have been both.

People could be complicated.

Nick shifted, sitting up a little straighter, looking over the assemblage. “A Director of S.H.I.E.L.D is always sidelined from the mission. That’s pretty much the definition. And if he – or she – has to look over his or her agents’ shoulders to get the job done, then he has no business being Director.” He turned to look at T’Challa. “You’d know that from being king, I imagine.”

For a second he thought he’d been too tactless with that last comment, then T’Challa smiled. “Being a leader requires trust in one’s people.”

Time to make the general personal. “And you trust your Dora Milaje, your War Dogs, your tribe militia, right?”

“Of course.”

“I trust Maria.” Put like that, it sounded kind of bald. Nick grimaced. “I’m not always happy with what she does, or how she does it. But I trust her to do the job, to do the right job, and to do the job right.”

And, bleak honesty made him admit that he wouldn’t have done such a good job with the Avengers. He knew Wilson and had met Maximoff, but Barnes was an extremely dark horse – and had shot Nick once besides, while the Spiderkid gave Nick a horrendous case of the ‘olds’ every time he opened his mouth.

“There is no question that Commander Hill does her job ably and well,” T’Challa admitted.

“I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

“We were concerned for you. Outside Wakanda, wisdom is not always acknowledged or recognized.”

Down below, Maria held up a finger to stop Barnes as he tried to speak over whatever the Antenna Lady was saying. Barnes frowned, but waited for Maria to drop the finger before he spoke again. Wilson was checking over his backpack with the hill-tribe warrior D’Maluu and leaned over to offer something to the conversation – casual and easy – then smirked when Maria glared.

“It’s a fair call,” Nick admitted, appreciating the concern. There weren’t many who’d otherwise have checked in. “But I’m not smarting from being left out.”

He’d listened in on the final plan, watched and listened as the last details were hammered out and the structure and order of everything was confirmed. He’d pointed out things he saw as flaws in the plan, as was both expected of him and required, and either Maria or others had come back with the counter-argument.

Still, T’Challa was right. Watching Maria in the role of handler was...discomforting.

Nick was still trying to parse why.

The Spiderkid said something. Well, Nick presumed he said something because the way Maria turned to look at the kid hanging upside down from a triangulation of web threads made him visibly cringe back. He could almost see the disarming smile. A few feet away, Maximoff’s grin was broad and feral, and a smile played about Doc Foster’s face as Maria sighed with a great slump of shoulders. She closed her eyes for a long moment, as though praying for patience, but when she opened them again and spoke, her mouth was a droll curve. Then she turned back to Wilson who wiped his grin off his face, quick-smart, but was probably still laughing inside.

“Commander Hill works well with the Avengers,” T’Challa noted.

“Well, she’s always had the knack...”

Except, Nick realized, she hadn’t – not at S.H.I.E.L.D

She’d done her job and done it well. She’d risen through the ranks, developed contacts and agents and cultivated technicians and scientists, but she’d never been popular among the more exclusive groups of S.H.I.E.L.D, from the STRIKE teams to the senior agents to Alexander Pierce and his cultivated favorites within the organisation.

Nick wasn’t a fool. He understood that S.H.I.E.L.D had been unfriendly to Maria for a variety of reasons, just the same as it had been unfriendly to him when he’d first started working there back in the sixties. He’d had an earful and then some from Alex Pierce when he’d promoted Maria, about political correctness and tokenism, and listed a dozen other agents ‘more suited’ to the job. It hadn’t escaped Nick’s notice that every one of those agents was white and male, and had been mentored by Alex or by someone Alex had mentored at some point.

He’d reminded Alex that the position of Deputy Director was at the discretion of the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, and waved him off with a, _She’ll work harder because she’s got more to prove, Alex._

And she had.

Nick had demanded a lot from her, and she’d given it every time – and not just acquiescence, either. Pushback and adjustments and occasionally lines drawn in the sand had been nearly as much of their interaction as agreement and coordination.

Had she had something to prove with the Avengers when she made the jump to Stark Industries? If so, she’d proved it by the time the Sokovia situation came up. As they cleaned up the mess and planned for the new Avengers facility, he’d watched the interactions – and confrontations – between her and the original six as well as with the ‘new recruits’ – Maximoff and Wilson and Rhodes and Vision.

Somewhere along the way, she’d learned to fit with the Avengers more comfortably than she ever had at S.H.I.E.L.D.

“I know that Okoye holds both Commander Hill and Ms Potts of Stark Industries in high esteem.” T’Challa murmured, unaware of Nick’s thoughts. A hint of a wince crossed his face. “Or held,” he murmured.

“That’s done a number on us, hasn’t it?” Nick stretched his legs out. “Mortality’s a hard thing to face.”

“Perhaps.” T’Challa looked away. “I am thinking of my sister and my wife and my country. How have they fared in the time since we were unmade? Did Shuri take the crown or did she also disintegrate, did she find me in the ancestral realm, or was the question of the succession made entirely moot? And was she even given the right to take the crown? The council have been – had been – much displeased with her irreverence for the traditions and her involvement in her technology. Perhaps they chose not to confirm her...”

Difficult things to wonder. And maybe the most difficult, “You’re wondering if we’ll get everything back only to discover our place in the world is gone.”

“Once, I feared to fail my people, my father, my forefathers. Now I fear to fail myself.”

Nick looked out at the world before them, at the collection of people who were mounting a mission on hope and shadows. And he knew it wasn’t a question he could answer for T’Challa.

“We’ll work it out,” he said simply. “One way or the other.”

He remembered what it felt like, the first time he realized that the world was leaving him behind – that the people he’d turned to over the years no longer turned to him. Nick Fury could be replaced – as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, as the old spider sitting comfortably in the centre of the intelligence web, as the man with connections all over the place. He hadn’t liked it one bit.

He didn’t like it now. But he knew it was time to step back and let others take the reins. That was the way most life worked – old lions and young lions, and old people and younger people.

In the hollow, the final prep seemed underway.

The Guardians were sorting out their ship, the Wakandans looking over their shoulders with interest, while the Avengers kept a wary eye on Hela as she paused nearby with the Valkyrie barely an arm’s length away. Hela’s eyes were cold, and her lip still curled, but she seemed quiet enough for the moment.

It wouldn’t last long; it just had to last long  _enough_ .

Maria was making her way up to them, slow and a little tired. T’Challa stood as she arrived.

“All is ready?”

“Hardly.” Maria softened the derisive comment with a faint smile. “But it’s as good as its going to get.”

Nick understood the sentiment. If this had been a S.H.I.E.L.D mission, he’d never have given it the green light. Too many question marks over their intel, too many unreliable factors, too much uncertainty, too big a risk. But this wasn’t S.H.I.E.L.D, and there were no other options – at least, none that Strange had outlined, and if anyone was going to know, he should.

In the end, it wasn’t a bad operation, just one that had too many blank spaces and not enough people that Nick trusted on the mission. Then again, it wasn’t his mission anymore.

“It’s not terrible for a lash-up mission to restore the universe.”

“I think the only kind of mission to restore the universe is a lash-up. There’s not usually a lot of time to contemplate our choices when the universe is at stake.” Maria looked to T’Challa. “Thanks for loaning us your people, your Majesty.”

“Thank me by undoing this,” T’Challa told her, and gripped her shoulder lightly as he passed her on his way down.

“The touch of a king,” Nick murmured softly as he watched T’Challa go.

“Let’s hope it brings as much luck as the old superstitions claimed.” Maria caught his gaze. “We’ll be back in less than an hour.”

“I’ll try not to get bored, then.”

“Or worried?” One brow arched at him.

She saw through him rather better than he liked, but wasn’t that why he’d picked her in the first place? And, too, he recognised that this was her own way of alleviating her own concerns about him.

“Guess I don’t need to tell you to be careful?”

This time, her smile flashed sharp as the blade of a hidden knife. “You don’t need to.”


	11. Part Three: There And Back Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography: _Heart Of Courage_ by London Music Works

 

Cadercka was a beautiful planet, even looking at it in the shadow-verse: untamed wilderness, virgin territory, unspoiled natural beauty...

“Not surprising that this would be an eco-terrorist’s soul base, really,” chirped Peter Parker as they soared over the planet. “I mean, it’s pretty nice.”

Maria barely saw it as they soared over the planet, her gaze firmly on the readings they were receiving from the _Milano_ ’s sensors. Atmosphere suitable for humans. A fifty-fifty land-water split. Very small pockets of farms and land usage, far-flung across the large islands that formed most of the landmass. And the place that Hela claimed was Thanos’ personal retreat.

He shared it with very few, the Asgardian had said triumphantly.

 _But he shared it with you?_ Maria asked, careful not to let inflection color her voice.

_I can be...persuasive when I choose._

It was set up like an estate – terraced fields running down the hill, a cottage-like house at the top of it with a good view out along a valley of forest and river and rich green fields. There were trails that led off across the hills, nothing as clear as tracks, just the slight wearing down of the grass along the lines of roads.

“The ’eco’ part, sure,” said Sam from the entryway to the hold. “But _this_ isn’t what I think of when I think ’terrorist’.”

“It is...ostentatious,” said D’Maluu.

“How can this be ostentatious?” Mantis asked in surprise. “It is so...pretty.”

“All this land, this...landscaping.” D’Maluu looked around. “It looks like a simple life, but much effort goes into it – which you do not understand until you have tried to replicate this kind of lifestyle.”

“Pastoral isn’t bucolic,” said Barnes bluntly. “It’s hard work, unless you have the tech and know-how – or the magic – to make it look bucolic. So all this? This is showing off – if you know how the deal works.”

“Well, you haven’t seen ostentatious until you’ve seen my Dad’s planet,” said Quill. “Which you can’t, because he _was_ the planet and he’s dead now.”

“He _was_ the planet—” Sam cut that off. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

The Valkyrie laughed. “You’ve lived a sheltered life, Midgardian.”

“I’m starting to realise that.” Sam quipped, and leaned into the cockpit. “Anything on an approach vector?”

Maria had several possible means of approach in the _Milano_ – including the direct fly-in. The questions that plagued her right now were whether Thanos was home, where he kept the glove if not on his hand, and just exactly what kinds of defensive measures were in the house against intruders. Although, if Thanos had stayed as secretive about this place as Hela said he’d been, maybe he didn’t bother with security measures. After all, he was Thanos the Almighty – it wasn’t like he had to worry about small time thugs breaking into his house with baseball bats...

“I say we go straight in and jump him,” Quill said as he piloted the _Milano_ across the mountain range that curved like a hook through the middle of this island. “We’ve got rockets and everything.”

“He has the glove,” Wanda retorted. “I do not care to face that again.”

“A front-on attack will only end in defeat.” Drax announced. “Thanos has more than rockets, and he does not hesitate to use them. Plus, Gamora studied at his knee, and she was always wily.”

“We go slow,” Maria said. “I want to know everything we can know about this place before you go in.”

The mission was uncertain enough – too many gaps in their intel, too many things they had to trust to Hela... If this had been a S.H.I.E.L.D mission, it would never have gotten the green light.

They were attacking the warlord who’d dissolved half the universe with a handful of people on a mission that was 95% lash-up and 5% pure balls. For a moment, she regretted not bringing the Wakandan army along. It might not have made a difference against the infinity glove, but it wouldn’t have felt so much like a doomed mission.

Of course, getting the Wakandan army into the _Milano_ would have proved quite a feat of logistics. As it was, it was crowded enough in the ship that even those who weren’t usually claustrophobic were feeling a little closed in.

Not to mention, most people were keeping a wary distance from Hela.

“You can’t adjust for everything, Hill.” Barnes commented from behind her chair. “We’ll have to go in on half-data. We’ll find a solution when we hit a problem.”

“I prefer being prepared,” Maria told him sourly.

“And we are. As much as we can be.” He glanced around at the crowded hold. “You gave us the plan; trust us to carry out the detail.”

Frankly, she’d feel better if she knew the details. She hated winging a mission, no matter how good she tended to be at it. But Strange wasn’t giving out any spoilers – or he’d forgotten them in the rush of fourteen million other possible pathways to take to get them out of this mess they were in. What they had was what they had.

“Sensors? Security?”

“Nothing.” Quill sounded suspicious. “Someone ask the crazy ex if it should it be this quiet?”

He’d lowered his voice, but Hela’s hearing was apparently pretty good.

Then he jerked as Hela’s hand came down on his shoulder, her fingertips dropping down to rest gently on his jacket.

“We still happen to be in what the fresh young man called ‘the shadow-verse’. _We_ are in the shadow-verse. Thanos and the people of his household _aren’t_.”

“You don’t think he dissolved these people like the rest of us?”

“You don’t think Thanos plays favourites?” Hela countered. “This is his planet. His land. His people. He would feel...a responsibility to them, of sorts. They belong to him.”

“Like a coloniser warlord,” said Najiri disdainfully.

“I was going to say ‘feudalist lord’,” Sam murmured, “but okay.”

Maria nodded. She could imagine that. Thanos had built up an army, created a command group of generals who he’d raised from children to adulthood. That took leadership – the ability to inspire and command respect, but it could be twisted, too. “So we won’t encounter anything until we flip through to reality.”

“I would advise being prepared,” Hela said. “He was always...inventive.”

The inflection she gave the word sounded rather more TMI than Maria cared to know. Instead of addressing it, she looked around the hold, meeting gazes, getting attention. “Then I guess we’re going in and we’ll take it as it’s thrown at us. Everyone clear on what they’re doing?”

Everyone was clear.

“Take us in,” she told Quill. “Low profile, in as close to the house as possible. Once we’re in the courtyard, Jane will take us through and we’ll deal with whatever comes.”

“Uh, like, I know this is really late, but has anyone considered the effect of taking the _Milano_ through when it already exists in reality?” Peter asked a little anxiously. “Like, I don’t want to get back to reality and suddenly find that we don’t have a ship around us. I mean, I’m fine, and I can save you guys if there’s something to latch to, but...uh...”

“Dr. Foster and I have considered many permutations and possibilities in preparation for this.” Najira said. “Matter which we take from the shadow-verse to reality remains matter if it is Jane’s will. We tested it with a cushion from Stark Tower.” She smiled faintly at Peter. “But it is well that you thought of it at your age.”

“It was?” Peter straightened his shoulders. “Cool. Wait, what do you mean ‘at my age’?”

Sam snorted and hustled him off with the others heading out to the ramp leading out from the hold, ready to disembark once they reached Thanos’ estate.

Maria took the central chair in the cockpit. The plan didn’t call for her to leave the  _Milano_ ; she would be monitoring everyone from inside. There’d been arguments about who would be going on which part of the mission. Considering Quill had a not-unexpected hatred for Thanos and had interrupted Peter, Strange, Stark, and the Guardians from getting hold of the glove last time, Maria had thought it best to tie him to the  _Milano_ .  _Unless you want me to pilot it_ , she’d told him.

Unsurprisingly, Quill had nixed that.

So Quill would do the flyover in the  _Milano_ , with Maria acting as mission control with the  _Milano_ ’s communications technology spliced in to the Wakandan comms units. Jane was their key to getting in and out of reality, but she was a non-combatant and would be staying on the ship in the co-pilot seat. Quill claimed his experience was sufficient not to need a co-pilot with any flight experience and Maria had chosen to take him at his word. Najira would also stay behind, monitoring the fight with what she’d designated ‘the battle board’. She’d also be dealing with any technology issues that D’Maluu and Amadi identified on the ground.

Everyone else was going to be out there – including Hela, who was both their wild card and their dark horse.

Now, as the empty estate grew larger in the windscreen, Maria felt her stomach twist with nerves. She closed her eyes for a moment, bracing herself for what was about to happen.

They were going to fix reality. They were going to make everything the way it had been.

And then...what?

_Don’t worry about tomorrow. Let tomorrow worry about itself._

The phrase was one of Nick’s. Something Biblical, which Maria always thought was rich coming from Nick – both the biblical quotation and the quotation itself. They were S.H.I.E.L.D which, by definition, meant worrying about tomorrow.

 _Don’t borrow trouble,_ Melinda had said while overseeing Maria’s first operation. _Second-guessing is for the Monday morning armchair quarterbacks.._

Maria opened her eyes. “Jane, take us through.”

Jane looked at Quill and held out a hand. With a grimace, and visible reluctance, Quill took it. Their fingers wrapped around each other, tightened and—

Dissolving on the street in LA had been dreamlike, a fuzzy sense of disbelief. This morning, being yanked through to reality had been a sharp shock– like the first gasp of air after being underwater too long or waking up confused. In contrast, coming back had been a wrench, as though she could sense the line between reality and non-existence.

This time, Maria felt battered, like she’d been smacked sideways with a table. Disoriented and – again – nauseous.

 _Not now,_ she told herself, even as she took a sitrep of the scene before them.

It was dark – a little before dawn, as she’d agreed with Jane – and the house was a bulking shadow against the slowly lightening grey of the sky. There were no sentries, no servants crossing the courtyard, nothing to indicate that there was anyone home.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Quill muttered as he hovered the ship above the quiet house.

“Oh, he’s there.” Hela’s voice lifted out of the darkness, and something about it set prickles at the back of Maria’s neck. “I can feel it.”

“That’s not at all creepy,” someone – probably Sam – muttered.

“Although,” Jane paused, “I can sense...something...”

“A disturbance in the force?”

“Does it feel like a trap?”

“It can’t be a trap,” Quill objected. “He doesn’t know we’re coming.”

“Or he shouldn’t.”

“I don’t think I know what a trap feels like,” Jane said. “But if I had to imagine it...not like this.”

Maria swivelled in the chair to look at the team, ready to go on her word.

She met Strange’s gaze, narrow-eyed and intensely blue, and he nodded.

“Take us in,” she called to Quill over her shoulder. “Drop the ramp when we’re in range,” she told Drax. “Mission is green.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography: _Injection (from Mission Impossible II_ , _The Rock_ by Hans Zimmer, _Breath And Life_ by Audiomachine.

_Mission is green._

As the ramp came down, Peter got his first real look at Thanos’ home. Oh, there’d been the view out the front, but it had been pretty dark, and there’d been a lot of land and forest and hill and not much house, so he’d given up looking for the house and just focused on the planet instead.

For a kid from out of Queens, the planet was made up of a _lot_ of greenery. Which wasn’t so surprising for an eco-terrorist, maybe.

What _was_ surprising to Peter was that Thanos’ house was small.

Small as in about the same size as one of the upper floors at Stark Tower, and those were entire labs, or entire rooms, or entire living suites. Which was fine when you were talking about an apartment in New York but made absolutely no sense when talking about the house of a megalomaniac. And it looked like some kind of tribal longhouse, made of wood, with a thatched roof, and in a kind of weird plus shape, where the crossbar of the plus was longer than the vertical.

It didn’t look at all like the kind of stronghold a villain such as Thanos was supposed to have.

And Peter wasn’t here to think thoughts like that.

 _Do the job. Complete the mission. Ponder after._ He could almost hear the words in MJ’s voice – okay, so MJ would have said _work_ not _mission_ , but still...

He shot his anchorline out to attach to one of the two curved poles forming the front archway, let it tug him off his feet and over the heads of the others as they went down the ramp and onto the stone stairs that led up to the main entry of the house. Then he shot out another strand of webbing to curve himself away from the pole and in under the peaked front of the roof. If there was any kind of security system against intruders, then he’d be the first one to hit it—

Nothing.

Peter soared inside without hindrance and flung out another line to catch one of the rafters. The goggles on the suit Mister Stark had given him toggled seamlessly with the change of light level, the outlines of the house clear and sharp, even in the dim light.

His earpiece buzzed. “Spider-Man, you’re not—”

“It’s empty,” he interrupted, before Miz Hill could take him to task for going in first. One glance along the length of the house showed him that, and he swept past the alcoves that matched the short crossbar of the plus sign. One had sleeping gear, and he thought that was a cooking setup in the other, but his gaze was entirely on the pedestal at the end of the house—

The glove lay on the top of the pedestal, like a hand outstretched for help. Even through Peter’s suit goggles, it seemed to gleam with deep and burnished depths as he swung towards it. Peter cut his line and somersaulted over glove and pedestal so he landed on the far side of it, leaving space for the others to see.

“Careful,” said the...uh...White Wolf from the entryway of the house, moving just the way Peter imagined an assassin would – weapon up, eyes alert. “We don’t know what traps there are.” He swept the sleeping alcove with his weapon as he moved. One of the Wakandans swept the other side, while his buddy covered his flank and balanced some kind of tablet-like device on his forearm and was watching the screen of it with a frown.

“Thanos makes no traps,” said Drax, as one of Scarlet Witch’s glowing balls of plasma passed over his head on its way towards the end of the house. “Not the physical kind.”

The light off the ball gave his tattoos an unearthly glow, and gleamed off the curved blade of his weapon – a knife that looked a bit like one of those old harvesting implements.

“He would not,” said Hela. “Not here, where he has nothing to fear.” She strode confidently through the house like she belonged here – maybe she had, at one stage, while she and Thanos were seeing each other. And that was a thought that Peter really didn’t want to have. Not here, not now, not ever. Her lip curled as she regarded the rafters above them. “How the mighty have fallen!”

“So says the former general of the Asgardian forces,” remarked the Valkyrie from one step behind Hela.

“So _knows_ the former general of the Asgardian forces,” came the cool reply.

Peter retracted his hood and studied the glove. It was more battered than the last time he’d seen it, like it had been crumpled before being straightened out again. But the Infinity gems still glowed in their settings, even without the light of Scarlet Witch’s plasma balls that now spun overhead, casting a glowing pink light down on the glove.

“So, uh, who’s going to try to pick it up?”

Hela strode up, and Peter had to fight the urge to step back. What he really wanted to do was nip the glove off the pedestal and out of her reach, because, sure, Hela had agreed to help them and they’d needed her help, but really, it sounded like the only thing worse than the glove on Thanos’ hand would be the glove on Hela’s hand.

But she didn’t reach for it, only stared at it with a slight frown on her face, before her expression flared. “It’s not real.”

“Not real?”

Peter lifted a hand to touch the glove, then froze as a rumble of laughter rolled out from the corner behind Peter’s right shoulder. He turned, dread filling his chest, as a shimmering red line dropped around them, vanishing the infinity glove on the pedestal and revealing Thanos standing in the shadows, the glove firmly on his hand.

“I should have realized I couldn’t fool you.”

“You should have,” Hela agreed, and smiled. The smile, while welcoming, had a disturbing edge to it. “How long’s it been?”

“Five thousand years, give or take a century or two.” He smiled back and it was no nicer than Hela’s expression. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Liar,” she said, but preened. “I wish I could say the same, Thanos, but you’re looking rather haggard. Peace and prosperity through the galaxy isn’t as agreeable as you thought it would be? And after you paid such a price!”

Something flared in the grey eyes – anger, maybe, or loss? “You don’t know the first or last thing about wielding such power,” Thanos said quietly.

“Yes, because my father imprisoned me for being ambitious – and was assisted in doing so by my so-solicitous lover.”

Peter blinked, and began edging backwards.

There were kids at school who dated. Some stayed together, some broke up. The break-ups were pretty boring for the most part, but every now and then things got really dramatic. And when things got dramatic, the last place you wanted to be was caught anywhere near a finger-pointing fight.

Plus, the kids at school were...well... _kids_. Harmless. Okay, so mostly harmless. While these were, like, the villain who’d destroyed half the universe and the daughter of Odin who he’d banished because she was too scary even for him!

 _Don’t move too fast,_ whispered a voice in his ear. It sounded like Scarlet Witch, only like her voice was coming from very far away down a long tunnel instead of through the communications earpiece. _Step back; I’m hiding you, but you must move slowly._

Peter went slow.

 _Do we have a plan?_ Peter thought at her, and wondered if she could hear him. There hadn’t been much on exactly what Scarlet Witch could do – neither Mister Stark, nor Miz Hill had been very forthcoming on that front, and it wasn’t like there was a Wikipedia entry on her!

Apparently she could hear him because, after a moment, her ‘voice’ came again, _Let them argue it out, then we’ll attack while he’s distracted._

As he stepped back, Peter noted the Valkyrie shifting her weight to bring her sword up by her shoulder, saw the Winter Soldier and the Wakandans stalking closer and closer— Was Drax trembling with the effort to remain still?

He couldn’t see Falcon or Dr. Strange or Mant— Oh, she was by Scarlet Witch, whose fingers twitched in the wafting coils of whatever spell it was that she was casting to hide their movements from Thanos.

 _On my mark,_ she whispered. _Three, two—_

A shimmer slid between Peter and the pedestal where no shimmer should be.

Shadows flared and leapt, breaking the quiet and rending the spell that had kept everyone concealed. The taunting exchange between Thanos and Hela broke off. And in a whirl of green coat and long black hair, Loki appeared out of nowhere gripping a Wakandan spear like he knew how to use it. With one smooth lunge, he stabbed Thanos in the gut—

Thanos barely noticed it. He grabbed Loki by the throat.

“You didn’t learn the first time, did you?”

“My father always said I was a slow learner. Third time lucky?”

Thanos laughed. “I assure you, there will be no third time.”

The gems in the glove glowed, bright as stars. Outside, there was a distant rumble of thunder.

Thunder, or the sound of something entering atmosphere.

Thanos’ smile turned...cruel, was the only way Peter had to describe it. Not that he’d seen Thanos all that much, but back on Titan, he’d seemed...determined. Purposeful. A man – well, Titan – on a mission.

Now, he felt more like Adrian Toomes – not just someone whose intent was at cross-purposes to theirs, but someone who wanted to watch the world burn while he was at it.

The gems glowed again, and Loki grunted as Thanos lifted him up by the throat. Behind Peter, Wanda gasped and Groot-the-tree squeaked. Thanos frowned, then his expression tightened and he cast Loki aside, in much the same way that a man might toss away a piece of trash.

Peter flung out a webline. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing it – after all, Loki was one of the bad guys, wasn’t he? Or had been?

But Loki was still one of theirs. He’d attacked Thanos with the spear. That counted.

And it wasn’t like he was saving Loki, just...giving him a slightly softer landing.

Their earpieces buzzed with the signal from the _Milano._ “Incoming,” said Miz Hill briskly. “We have two bogeys coming from the northwest. Scans show helicarrier sized, so they’re probably carrying. You’re going to have additional company very soon. We’re on evasion.”

Company very soon meant a shrinking window to get that glove.

Peter flung a strand of webbing up to the roof over Thanos’ head and leaped for Thanos, kicking out as he did.

He saw the gloved hand lift, saw the gems glow—

The world spun and he saw the post coming but couldn't—


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography: _Forge_ by Alan Silvestri

The rumble only sounded like thunder in the sky if you didn’t hear the very precise nature of it.

Sam counted off a rumble of three seconds, then another one, then one that went for longer—

“Hill, we have incoming. Do you read them?”

He could hear chatter in the background – the longhouse break-and-entry wasn’t going so well; a fake glove on display, and then Thanos turning up with the real one on hand. Sam had briefly been tempted to crash the party, literally through the roof. But he’d been set to lookout, so that was what he was doing, even though he longed to be in the middle of things.

Now he was glad he’d stayed high.

“Copy incoming,” she answered. “We’re reading at least two very large bogies. Get to a defensible position, Falcon.”

Sam snorted. “Find me a defensible position and I’ll get to it, Hill. In the meantime, I’m going closer.”

“Carefully.”

“Of course!”

As he boosted for higher altitudes, he switched his goggles to heat-sensing, ready in case they targeted him. He could hear Maria switching to the group channel – she must have been on a direct channel with him – and reported the incoming bogies, then told Sam, “Quill’s taking the _Milano_ higher up. There’s some weapons capabilities, but nothing significant. Did you want to come in?”

“No, but I could use some help from someone who can fly and attack at the same time. Wanda or Strange would be best. I’m guessing the Valkyrie can’t fly.”

“Not unless she’s been holding out on us.” Maria replied grimly. “And there’s complications below. Apparently Loki stole away on the ship and nobody noticed.”

“Didn’t Strange have his cloak—” But Strange had been wearing his cloak both when they boarded the _Milano_ and when they disembarked here, and nobody had thought to ask what was happening with Loki. “How bad is it?”

“He attacked Thanos, so there’s that, but Thanos has the glove and he’s fighting back.” There were murmurs in the background. “Worse news is the incoming ships – only two, but Quill says they’re Q-ships. The kind that attacked New York.”

“They’re Thanos’ generals,” Quill said, grimly butting in to the conversation. “The Black Order – handpicked kids raised by him from birth to be the leaders of his armies. Gamora was raised to be one of them back at the start, but she never drunk the Kool-Aid. The others have, though – and then some.”

“Wanda can’t help you,” Maria reported. “She’s dealing with Thanos and the others inside. Strange...”

The way she trailed off didn’t bode well.

“He’s done his vanishing act again, hasn’t he?”

“He’s not showing up on any of our measures,” Maria said grimly. “And Loki’s free, so, yes, it looks like Strange is gone.”

Sam cursed. He could see the incoming Q-ships now – giant rings descending majestically through the sky. And from them poured things – not ships but creatures like giant orange hornets – a swarm of them descending on the estate. His weapons were already out; now he checked his charges. Would the ammo work against giant bugs? Who knew? If not, it was going to be a really short fight for him.

 _We get that glove, whatever the cost,_ Maria had said during the briefing. _Nothing else matters, but getting our hands on that glove. Once someone has it, they undo what Thanos has done._

_And then what?_

_And then we see what comes next._

Sam hadn’t figured on dying today – particularly not after coming back to ‘life’ so recently, but then, when did a soldier ever figure that? _You go in ready to die, you’re already halfway there,_ had been the words of the E&E training officer Sam had at the academy.

Sam wasn’t ready to die; but he was a believer in picking the reason to go in, as he’d told Steve that day four years ago.

And, hey, maybe his view had broadened out a little more than just Captain America needing his help. This time, there was a universe at stake.

“I’m going in,” he said. “Meet them high.”

“Negative, Falcon.” Maria sounded calm. “We’ll lead in to soften them up, once they come out on the other side, they’re yours.”

“Copy that.”

The _Milano_ boosted for the centre of the incoming swarm, thrusters burning. As soon as it was within range, it began firing on the hornets with pretty good accuracy, carving out a hole in the swarm. But even as they took out dozens, hundreds more – maybe thousands – were still coming.

Sam briefly tuned back in to the longhouse – noises that indicated a fight was going on – hopefully between Thanos and the others. Physical? There were some odd grunts, and a sound like someone frustrated or surprized – a man, maybe one of the Wakandans?

“Scarlet Witch?”

“I’m sorry, Falcon,” she said, and her voice projected the strain she was under. “I cannot—”

He was on his own for this. Ahead of him, the swarm had hit the _Milano_ and while some had turned to attack it in a pack, many were still coming directly for him. The _Milano_ flipped in a controlled spin, fast enough to slap some of the hornets down, even as others latched onto the wing as it passed them.

They were definitely insectile – wasp-like bodies and limbs, but about human-sized and with a humanoid head. As they got closer, Sam saw the fangs. _Great._ He gripped his firearms harder, and pumped for altitude. It was going to be a short, nasty fight, but all he had to do was buy time.

The first wave of them were nearly on him, and he checked his ranges, frowning a little as something bright glittered off their carapaces from behind and above him and distracted the rangefinder in his goggles.

And then they were in range and he was firing, aiming each time, wasting no fire. Sam was no sharpshooter, but he was good enough to pick off at least the first dozen with a single shot – the problem was that there were more.

Too many more.

“You know,” he said, keeping his voice light as he fired, “we could do with the Wakandan troops right about now...” A distraction on the ground – a diversion, an alternative target for the incoming horde—

His earpiece crackled and buzzed, like an analogue radio tuning in. And Rhodey’s voice rang out over the communications channel: “Will we do instead?”

The first hornet had reached Sam, and he dropped into a barrel-roll, diving under the leaders, still firing at their bellies before he registered who’d spoken.

Then he saw the deadly steel of the Iron Patriot smashing into the hornets above him, the scarlet-and-gold Iron Man suit slamming into the swarm beyond Colonel Rhodes – wait? Were there _two_ Iron Men? Or...an Iron Man and an Iron Woman? The second figure was slimmer and definitely female, but her outfit was red and blue and gold and—was that a _mohawk_?

“Never fear,” said Stark with typical insouciance, “the cavalry’s here!”

Sam didn’t have time to take a second look. He shot a rough arc of fire before and behind him, clearing a space around him. It gave him enough space to see a Quinjet with Thor crouched atop it, slipping in to the planet through a giant fiery ring that hung in the airspace. It was swiftly another ship of the same type as the _Milano_ – only rather less shiny, and with a Hulk gripping the hull.

“Goddamn,” he managed, laughing. “Talk about an entry!”

“Language, Sam,” said Natasha, her voice rich with a smile, even as the Quinjet started firing. The other ship also swept in and began engagement, heading towards the beleaguered _Milano_. Without stopping the fire, she added, more formally “This is _Avengers One_ and _Two_ —”

“Hey, Red,” a rough, almost squeaky voice interrupted, “remember how I told you this was the _Rocket And Ruin_? Do you humans not listen, _ever_?”

With a roar, the Hulk balanced on the ship and began smashing hornets, like a martial arts fighter on a skateboard.

Natasha continued ruthlessly over the speaker. “—calling _Guardians One_ with assistance incoming. Five ground operatives, five aerial. Six if you count Strange.”

“Rocket, what have you done with the _Benatar_?”

“What did _I_ do? _I’m_ not the one who left it on Titan when I dusted off into nothing! I’m not the one who’s somehow manage to get hold of a spitting image of the _Milano_...”

“Hey, if I’d had a choice about it, I’d have taken it with me!”

Sam boosted his jets to get altitude, and found the scarlet-cloaked sorcerer descending through the swarm, golden circles slashing through the air around him. Hornet body parts spun and fell around him as he sliced and diced anything that got too close.

“We thought you’d run out on us,” he called to Strange.

“I thought we could do with reinforcements.”

“Thought?” Maria asked from the _Milano_. “Or knew?”

“Does it matter?” Strange asked lightly. This close, Sam could see his irritation at being questioned, the hard curl of his lip.

“Sharing the plan matters.”

Several hornets had developed a sudden indecision about which target to strike for; Sam shot them and removed all options and wondered if Strange could hear the tight note in Maria’s voice. A moment later, he wondered if he’d heard it at all, because Maria’s voice turned calm and brisk.

“ _Avengers One_ , _Rocket and Ruin_ , this is the _Milano_. Falcon is out in the open, render any and all assistance. A retrieval unit is presently in the longhouse confronting Thanos and the glove. They also need backup.”

“Copy that, Hill,” Natasha’s voice came clear and equally calm, even as the Quinjet pulsed fire. “Cap, is your team ready to go?”

There was a pause. “We’ll go where the commander needs us,” said Steve, and Sam could hear the buttoned down restraint in his voice, even over the communications system. The tight note had been there when Steve had gotten back from Melbourne; Sam hadn’t pushed it – then. He wasn’t going to push it now. “Captain, if you’d help the _Milano_ —”

“Unnecessary, Cap,” said the woman. Her accent was American, mature and confident, but the golden slash of light that stabbed viciously through the hornets was something else. “Thor’s on it.”

Lightning arced through two dozen hornets around the ship, rendering them piecemeal and ash in a split-second. It cleared a space large enough for the _Milano_ to swoop down in another controlled spin, shaking loose the last couple of hornets attached to it before it banked in a tight circle, bringing it back to the fight. Sam saw Thor hover for a moment, turning to watch the _Milano_ with a shocked express—Oh, right, Doc Foster was in there, too.

“Showoff,” muttered Stark, who then proceeded to fire a multitude of tiny rockets that spun out and exploded hornets right left and centre.

“Look who’s talking,” retorted Rhodey, cheerfully doing the same thing.

“Flirt later, boys,” said red-gold-and-blue, blasting through aliens like she was swatting mosquitoes. “Fight now.”

“Hey, we can multitask.”

Sam grinned as he shot skywards again, trying to get above the hordes. His smile faded as he got a good look at the Q-ships, which were disbursing other things now – larger and darker than the hornets, and probably more dangerous.

“New incoming,” he reported. “Small aircraft, looks maneuverable. Better hurry up and drop, Nat. We’re going to need all the air support we can get.”

“Hurrying up and—” Nat broke off. “We got incoming on the ground, too.”

“And the day just gets better.”

“It’s going to get even better,” said red-gold-and-blue, “because I’m going to bag me a Q-ship. Later, boys!”

And off she shot, a bullet headed for the sky.

“Where on Earth did you find her?”

“We didn’t. She came to us,” Rhodey said. “Although, more correctly, she came _back_ to us. You’ll like her, Sam – she’s Air Force.”

“Represent!”

“Oh, yeah.” The grin was clear in Rhodeys’ voice. “Tony hates it.”

“I do not hate it, I just think that we’ve got a serious preponderance of ex-military types around here—”

“Argue less, please, Tony,” Maria cut in. “Fight more.”

“I can multi-task, you know!”

“But we don’t want you to.”

Rhodey laughed. “You _sure_ your day’s getting better, Sam?”

“Damn sure.”

Considering that half an hour ago, Sam hadn’t been real, and five minutes ago he’d been facing an army with just the _Milano_ for backup, so far as _he_ was concerned his day was definitely getting better.

“Okay, Avengers,” he said, broadcasting, “Let’s do this!”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography: _Protectors of the Earth_ by Steve Jablonsky

How long had it been since he’d been on a mission?

Too long and not long enough.

He’d been doing well in Wakanda - nothing to remind him, nothing to bring back echoes. The Wakandans had offered him progression therapy - the chance to run through those old memories that still haunted him while sleeping, and put them to rest. He’d refused, then, just wanting peace and solitude.

Then T’Challa and Okoye had come with the arm. They’d brought no summons, made no demand; they hadn’t had to. And Bucky had put on the arm and become a soldier again.

Being a soldier hadn’t been a problem. War was different - he remembered war. Missions, though - small groups of operatives performing a surgical strike or insertion into a well-defended facility—

 _No._ He shook his head to clear the memory.

But everything about the mission screamed wrongness to him - even before Thanos turned up with the glove and started throwing Loki around.

Bucky’s finger was tightening on the trigger, even as Loki fell. He aimed for Thanos' shoulder, stitching bullets along the join of the arm. Maybe it wouldn’t do anything, maybe it would – but if he could stop Thanos from using the glove—

A wave of force flung him back. He retained enough presence of mind to keep his weapon close, but at least one Wakandan spear went clattering across the floor.

They’d taught him to endure pain as the Winter Soldier; sometimes that came in helpful, such as when your head slammed against a wooden parquet floor. It could have been worse – stone would probably have hurt a lot more – but Bucky shunted the pain away and rolled to his feet.

Wanda had caught some of them - Parker, Groot, Mantis - and maybe softened the landing for others? Bucky didn't ask - there was no time.

Thanos was yanking the spear out of his side, and got it out in time to block the Valkyrie’s sword thrust. In the enclosed space, the Valkyrie was at a disadvantage, unable to fully swing her weapon, and she’d overcome this hindrance by stabbing in from the shoulder. But the thrust left her with too much of her body weight extended, and she was easily unbalanced when Thanos flicked the spear in a tight circle.

Hela, of course, stepped fastidiously out of the way. Maybe she wasn’t going to help Thanos, but she wasn’t going to help the Valkyrie either.

“Watch her,” muttered D’Maluu. “She will take advantage.”

“As the jackals come for the wounded,” Bucky confirmed. “Wanda—”

Drax’s roar filled the small space as he charged Thanos with nothing but his knife. Subtlety was clearly not in his lexicon. Bucky would have added ‘nor thinking’ but from what he’d seen the guy could think, he just couldn’t think in the kinds of twists and turns that would help him against an opponent such as Thanos. From the sound of it, Drax was lucky he’d fallen in with the other Guardians, or else he’d have been dead with the direct approach a long time ago.

Then again, given that he swerved before he reached Thanos, heading for the Valkyrie, maybe he wasn't all there after all?

The Valkyrie rolled down under the swipe of the blade, and came up in a crouch with her sword out. “What—?” She dodged the next swipe, and stepped back, trying to put space between her and the suddenly-crazy Guardian. “Odinsbeard!”

Bucky took a step forward and was in—

A bathroom. Blood smeared the dirty white bathtub, dripped from the cuts all over her body. Her skin was waxy, and her eyes dull, but there was enough life in her to blink when she saw him, even if the scientist was too preoccupied to notice. And the Winter Soldier dragged the scientist off her, and flung him against the doorjamb. _Not the mission objective. Terminate the scientist. Take the research_. Yet something stabbed his chest from the inside. _Not the mission objective._ This was wrong. _Take the research._ Wrong. _Terminate the scientist._

They didn’t say _how._

Houston 1967. Mission 651-B-Ventigram. _Terminate the scientist. Take the research._

Bucky grabbed the man as he tried to climb to his feet, and brought his fist down, but the scientist twisted away in a move he shouldn’t be able to—he hadn’t done that—wouldn’t even have _known_ — Wait. _This is wrong._ He’d terminated the woman first, giving mercy. Then he’d beaten the scientist bloody and left him on the floor to die of shock for reasons the Winter Soldier hadn’t understood and wouldn't have been allowed to voice even if he had.

At no point had the man fought back, blocking his punches, wrestling him with easily equal poundage—

“Bucky! D’Maluu!”

Behind the scientist, the woman had risen from the bathtub, hands spread wide, her blood glowing a neon scarlet that dripped down across reality and slashed through the nightmare on a wave of anger. Bucky blinked,and found himself looking into D’Maluu’s wide eyes, flared nostrils, and bared teeth. Kneeling beside them, Mantis had a hand on each of their arms, her huge eyes even larger than usual.

“It is Thanos,” she said quickly, urgently. “You were seeing things that were not there.”

“Mantis,” Wanda said, and held out her hands with imperious authority. “I will need your help—”

The little woman hesitated, then took a deep breath and took Wanda’s hands.

“It’s not just us,” D’Maluu said, starting towards Drax and Amadi who now were slashing at each other. “We must—”

Bucky caught his arm. “No. Wait for the ladies.” Both women’s eyes were closed and any moment now—

He didn’t see the shockwave that rippled out from them, but he felt it tear at the fog that Thanos had spun around them – and not just them, or at Drax and Amadi. Parker had dragged himself up to the central beam and was hanging there, slapping the side of his head as though to wake himself up from a dream – or nightmare. Meanwhile Groot had dug his fingers into one of the vertical posts of the longhouse and looked a moment away from dragging the entire structure down around their ears. Loki wrenched the Valkyrie’s hands off his throat – that, or she rolled off him and climbed to her feet, her sword raised as she faced Thanos.

“How _dare_ you—!”

Bucky was not familiar with Titan facial expressions, but Thanos seemed both confused and infuriated that they'd made it out. “This is _my_ planet. _You're_ the intruders here—” He flicked his fingers and the blue gem flashed.

A portal opened behind him in the longhouse, into what looked like some kind of space, crowded with armed creatures, tall and helmed over a gaping maw that suggested an insectoid base rather than a humanoid one.

The Maw creatures hissed, and began to run through the portal, and Val and Loki moved to intercept them. They rushed through, barely looking where they were going, hardly noticing their surroundings, intent on only one thing – killing the intruders at the will of their lord and master.

And there were too many of them to fight one to one; too many to rely on them being stupid.

“Fall back,” Bucky ordered, his weapon already firing into the gaps between the Asgardians, each shot precise and calculated.

Head after head after head shattered, and he reached for the cold impassion that had been as much a part of his nature as it was part of his training – both as a sniper of the Howling Commandos and as the Winter Soldier. These soldiers were attacking him and his team, getting in the way of their objective. They had to die. It was as simple as that.

But a part of him still hated the waste of it.

 _A wolf kills because it must to survive;_ Shuri had said to him while he was still dealing with his guilt and shame at what he’d done and had done to him. _You take no pleasure in death or pain, and I do not think you ever did._

They’d need to regroup, work out a way to cut off the portal, work out a way to get back to Thanos before he vanished—

Why hadn’t he vanished? If he could step from one place to another using the Space stone, why wasn’t he doing it? For the enjoyment of watching them die?

Spider-Man was shooting tangling, sticky webs to hamper the Maw Soldiers as he scuttled and swung across the underside of the roof. Loki and the Valkyrie were fighting in a peculiar kind of synchronisation, their swings and strikes almost covering for each other. But they, too, were in retreat.

Drax had stabbed a Maw Soldier and was using the body to shove others back, heedless of the wounds he was taking, but that was also buying time for them.

And Hela? Hela had engaged Thanos in a fight with a black blade that struck sparks as it screeched across the battered and burned metal of Thanos' glove. And Thanos was _only_ using the glove as a defence, instead of attacking with the infinity stones the way he should be doing.

“ _Milano_ ,” he reported, “this is Barnes. We’re in retreat; mission not achieved—”

“ _I am Groot_!”

“What do you mean we can’t—?” Mantis turned and made a squeak of dismay. “Behind us!”

A glance over his shoulder confirmed the dread that pooled in his gut. Thanos had opened a portal at each end of the longhouse, trapping them in the middle, and making them an easy slaughter.

“Regroup, fall back to back!” There was nothing else to call. “ _Milano_ , we’re trapped in the centre of the longhouse, blocked off each end—”

“Copy that, Barnes,” said Hill. “Reinforcements already inbound.”

“Reinforcements?” D’Maluu asked, calling over the firing chatter of his spear-weapon. “They have brought through our people?”

“Sorry,” said a new voice – the accent as familiar to Bucky as his own, “It’s just us.”

“Oh well then,” Bucky retorted, “that won’t do. You can just toddle right on back—”

“Good to see you, too, Buck.” Steve quipped, matching his tone. “Strange called us in. Along with a few others. Hulk, will you—?”

There was a bellow, and a section of roof and wall was torn off, showing the brightening sky, and the giant shadowy figure of the Hulk.

He spotted the Valkyrie and his expression brightened. “Big Girl!”

“Hulk! Come join the party!”

“Hulk party!”

In the sky beyond, a swarm of things fought with— Was that Stark? No, _that_ was Stark – and Rhodes with him. With Thor and Strange and someone slim in a form-fitting suit of blue and red and gold with a...classical helmet crest? Falcon was still firing, the spread of his wings silhouetted against the sky. Then the _Milano_ spun out – for a moment Bucky thought they were out of control – but it stopped hard and dropped, flinging the swarm flyers off its wings before cutting a tight circle and zooming off, firing again.

A Maw Soldier came at him with something like a pikestaff, Bucky used his gun to trap the staff between his body and his arm and kicked the Soldier in the belly, shoving him back. Around him, he was vaguely aware of Maw Soldiers sprouting feathers from the back of their heads – and arrow points from the front. Some fell to laser fire, others to the fiery balls of Scarlet Witch’s power, and still others were slammed aside with the ringing sound of bodies hitting Steve’s shield – the old circle of red, white, and blue, shined, polished, and repainted.

“Took you a while to get here,” he twitted Steve.

Steve dispatched a Maw Soldier with what looked like a set of vibranium knuckles. “Blame Strange. He barely gave us time to suit up.”

There were other Wakandans, moving with Steve – new Avengers? Or just roped in for the fight? D’Maluu and Amadi seemed pleased to see them, and an exchange was taking place in Wakandan even as they broke through the Maw Soldiers and began expanding the circle of people defending each other. But how long would they last, even with the reinforcements? Bucky didn’t know.

Spider-Man was still gumming up the Maw Soldier works, swinging around and catching weapons and arms when they moved to block or attack the others. Loki and Val had fallen into this kind of dual fighter stance, while Hulk was punching right, left, and centre – and the structure of the house was starting to waver.

And there was Thanos, too, who was fighting Hela, and seemed to be barely holding his own in spite of her relative size. That, or she had a lot of rage in her. Hell has no fury like a Hela scorned? Probably.

“That’s Thor’s sister?” Steve asked as he flung the shield, rebounding it off several Maw soldiers before catching it again.

“Half-sister,” Bucky managed. “Not of the sane persuasion.”

Sane or not, whatever Hela was doing, it was changing the game. At either end of the longhouse, the portals wavered and vanished, cutting off the flow of Maw soldiers.

Thanos cried out.

Bucky got the gun muzzle in between him and the Maw Soldier attacking him and fired. The thing fell, and the ones behind were snared by Spider-Man’s web.

Hela’s knife was in Thanos’ arm, shining ebony hilt deep in the shoulder. As Bucky watched, she twisted it, saying something in a rictus of glee before she reached his forearm and the glove with hands that showed the knuckles white. Her expression as she yanked it off was all the horrors of the universe given form. Once he’d used the Infinity stones for his purpose, Thanos had been an indifferent master to the glove; Hela would not be.

“We gotta push through!”

Steve nodded, barely glancing at him. “I’m on your six.”

Bucky stepped forward, spearheading the charge, Steve one step behind. The Wakandans fell in behind them, D’Maluu calling them to defend the White Wolf.

Arrows sped towards Hela; she brushed them off – or flung them back. Someone fired a Wakandan spear at her and she didn’t even look up as it hit her – just absorbed the blast. Steve flung the shield she casually flicked it away. With a yelp, Parker caught the shield in a webbed strand and yanked it mere inches away from hitting the Valkyrie.

The glove leaped high in the air, yanked out of her grasp by invisible hands and scarlet sparks. As it lifted above Hela’s grasp, a glittering, gold circle swept over her and she was gone. But Thanos was reaching for the glove, fingers outstretched towards it, and it was yearning back.

Bucky pushed forward through the Maw soldiers, turning them aside for the others to deal with, his gaze on the glove that was inching towards Thanos in spite of Wanda’s best efforts.

“Scarlet Witch, release on my mark.”

“Are you sure?”

No, he wasn’t. But that wasn’t the point— The point was—

He shoved the last Maw soldier aside and leaped. “Mark!”

Back in Brooklyn, he’d sat and watched the Jewish boys play basketball. Occasionally he’d joined in, although not often – Steve’s asthma left him out of the game and Bucky didn’t feel it was fair to make such a point of what his buddy couldn’t do. But he’d been good at getting in between the ball and the player – the intercept. This was the same concept.

Of course, now Bucky was defending against a ten-foot tall purple brick shithouse, but the shithouse had a knife in his shoulder so maybe—

_You’ve been hanging around Wilson too long._

Thanos began to reach with his right hand to catch Bucky by the throat. He jerked, convulsed, and fell to his knees. Behind him stood a woman – at least Bucky guessed it was a woman. Although the bald blue head showed signs of cybernetic joins, the bitter satisfaction shining in the black eyes was very human as she stepped back from her handiwork.

Bucky thrust out his hand unimpeded, and the glove slid onto it, oversized and loose—

His hand was burning.

He shouldn’t have felt it like thi – the severed hand: The Hand That Was Not, as Shuri joked. His body was ice and fire, battered flesh and burning pain. His existence was sweat and tears and a smeared blur of unending remorse. His mind was a fractured mess, shattered and rebuilt in twists and mazes. He was everything and nothing all at once, and the universe roared through his bones.

Loki was fighting – stabbing with a surgeon’s precision and a cornered rat’s viciousness, while Groot needed no precision to whip out branching tendrils that speared the Maw soldiers, impaling them on his ‘fingers’. Wanda ripped apart Maw Soldiers as she reported to the Milano, where Quill gripped the ship’s yoke with white-knuckled control as a bevy of human-sized things smashed around them and Doc Foster was yelling something to Najira. And two hundred feet up in the air, Strange spun transporting circles in and out of his airspace like a circus acrobat hopped up on science-fiction.

He felt them all, their presence crowding in and somehow easing the pressure on him, like a weight had fallen on him and he was carrying most of it, but there were others there, too.

On the glove, the orange stone vanished.

 _No!_ Bucky reached for the sense of power, already measurably falling. _Change it back! Change it all back!_

The universe tore.

Like a rent in the fabric of the world, it started at Bucky’s feet, and when he staggered back from its gaping emptiness, it followed him.

Bucky tried to heal it, tried to seal it with with the glove’s power, but it kept growing – a slow shredding of the edges of reality.

“What the—?”

“What’ve you done?”

“Odin’s beard!”

Thanos looked up at him, and dark triumph lingered in the heavyset features. “The Soul stone doesn’t answer to you – you haven’t paid its price.”

Slowly, the crack widened and lengthened, showing darkness – or, worse than darkness – a nothingness that sucked at them, demanding equilibrium.

And it grew.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography: _Moonlight Sonata_ by Hidden Citizens

There was a tear in the universe and it called to Wanda in her brother’s voice.

She clawed back the scream that threatened to tear out her heart. She’d given it sound and life and meaning three years ago during the fight against Ultron, and then trapped it away ever since.

The emptiness called to her, a yearning song of oblivion. Not just death – the end of the body – but an end to all things. And in that end... In spite of the Avengers, in spite of Vision, there’d been a hollow ache inside her for a long time – ever since Pietro’s death. She’d choked it down, pushed it away, refused to give it anything to hold to, but it was there – always there, always promising pain.

 _Life is pain_ , she remembered, _you just get used to it._

The promised end to pain – to all things of dark and bitter heart – raged inside her. Why should the world continue to turn when Pietro was gone? Why should there be anything left after the universe had given her Vision and then taken him away?

An end to _all_ things.

The tear widened, encompassing several of the insectoid soldiers. They fell into blackness, their mouths wide in a scream as they were swallowed up as though they’d never been.

Oblivion.

It coiled around her with a tenderness that ached – she wouldn’t have to feel, wouldn’t have to live with the loss of the two men who’d meant everything to her in her life— _everything—_

“Sitrep, someone?” Maria’s voice sounded distant and tinny, but it cut through the siren song. “Strange? Bucky? Wanda?”

The universe and everything in it snapped back. Wanda exhaled on a gasp. Slipping back into reality had been like the first time she’d used her powers, a joy almost shocking in its intensity. This was a thousand times that, but without the joy. Instead, a primordial terror clawed at her, the knowledge that here was the end of all things before her and in spite of the hole within her, she so desperately wanted to _live_.

First, to deal with the hole torn in the material of existence, dragging at them all.

Wanda could feel the ragged threads of the edge, could feel Barnes’ attempts to stitch them back together. It wasn’t that he lacked the power, but that the control wasn’t there. He could gather the edges together, but he couldn’t make them whole, and Wanda watched the tear quiver and burst further along.

She reached for the edges, felt them in a grasp that wasn’t physical and which somehow went beyond magical or mental, and dragged them together, meshing the edges until they fused. There were others around her, doing the same thing – she could sense them working with her, alongside her in some kind of psychic plane. It seemed an odd collection – Groot and Strange, Quill and Loki, and the sense of Doctor Foster there, too...

Their presences darted in and out around hers, brightly coloured thoughts that wove themselves through the edges of the tear and pulled together, and the entirety of them was somehow more than the sum of their individual pieces, and the sense of rightness persisted...

It made the universe whole.

Three feet, two feet, one feet, sealed...

The universe was still intact, although there was a trembling moment when it felt like it wouldn’t hold fast—

Reality shivered briefly, but the bindings held.

Wanda had time to exhale a breath, and then something whipped past her, swift and deadly, and she flinched back from the vine that had sprung past her and was even now splitting into several tendrils that stabbed and strangled the remaining soldiers of Thanos. She turned, following the anchor of the vine, past Mantis, past the stunned and shaken Wakandans to Groot, who scowled at them. “ _I am Groot_!”

“Yes,” agreed Mantis after a moment’s pause. “And it was very well done of you!”

Heavy laughter rang through the house. “You have no idea what you’ve unleashed,” Thanos scorned. “You humans don’t have the strength to use the glove and the stones, and what all six Infinity stones have wrought can’t be unwrought – not even if you got the Soul stone back. You’ll never—”

An arrow stabbed through his mouth and into his tongue and throat, silencing him. Then he jerked again as the blue woman who’d stabbed him yanked the sword from his spine. “This is for Gamora,” she hissed, and swung the sharp black blade.

It bit into his neck and didn’t pause as it cut through his spine.

The torso collapsed. The head bounced, coming to rest facing the rest of the longhouse. Purple-red blood dripped and spattered and gushed from the severed blood vessels, but the expression on the corpse was clear enough: unalloyed pain and bitter relief. He’d possessed all the power in the world, but it had cost him something he could never regain.

A slightly stocky figure swung down from the ridgepole and landed on his feet by the head. “That’s done,” Clint said, clinically yanking the arrow from Thanos’ mouth by planting his boot on the Titan’s face and yanking it out. “We’re needed outside. It’s going pretty badly out there. And Thanos may be dead, but his minions are probably going to fight down to the last man.”

“But we have the glove now.” Bucky lifted his left hand and made a fist of it.

Perhaps it was the crepuscular light of the dawning morning, slowly creeping up on them, but for a moment Wanda thought she saw an unholy glee in his eyes, like a fire unexpectedly roused. Then he turned, ducked under one of Groot’s tendrils and strode to the breach in the side of the longhouse, only pausing to grip Steve on the shoulder where he was giving Maria the sitrep before stepping into the battle outside. The Wakandans looked at each other and with only a nod to the others – and one gob of spit at the decapitated Thanos – they went.

“He has the look of the crazymen of Yarmando, who will destroy you for merely stepping on their shadow, which is their pride and joy. Their ancestors lived for years beneath eternal clouds, that when the sun came out, it was a source of great pleasure.” Drax set his shoulders. “But he has little joy left, so I will follow him – at a distance.”

Mantis gave Wanda a worried look as she scooped up one of the weapons on the floor and followed after Drax. She had a particular connection with him – not a sexual one in Wanda’s opinion, but an intimate and powerful one all the same.

Hulk gestured at the Valkyrie. “Big Girl come!”

“Loki—”

“Oh, don’t feel you need to include me—” Loki was given no chance to object. The Valkyrie grabbed him by the collar and he was dragged up on the Hulk’s back to leap into the fight outside.

Clint yanked one last arrow from Thanos’ dead soldiers, stuck it back in his quiver, and glanced up at Wanda. “You okay? Strange was pretty close-mouthed about what’s been happening with you guys; just said you needed us.”

“It has been...” Wanda laughed shortly, thinking of the last few days. “Not very long for us, actually. How long has passed for you?”

“Just over a year.” Steve came up with his shield, his expression grim. He was clean-shaven again, and looked...leaner. “It’s been...hard.”

“Uh, I kinda hate to interrupt,” Spider-Man said from over their heads, “but there’s still fighting going on outside. Are you guys gonna join in? Or, uh, are you taking a break?”

“Will it make a difference to you?” Clint asked.

“No, not really. I just thought I’d check.” He seemed to hesitate between wanting to stay and wanting to go, but after a moment and a shrug, he went.

“We’ll be needed,” Steve said, crouching down to relieve one of the soldiers of his weapon. “Maria says there are troop transports being set down, and we’re shortly going to be overrun on the ground and not just in the air.”

Clint frowned as he headed out, Wanda a mere step behind. “Barnes has the Infinity glove. So shouldn’t he be able to....just make them go poof?”

“Maybe it is more complicated than just firing at will,” Wanda said as she stepped outside and faltered.

Beneath them, an army climbed up the slopes towards them from the treeline, pale and slender bodies armed and armored, carrying weapons that glowed with a pale green light. They moved through the watery terraces with the deadly grace of killers, sparing no thought for what they crushed beneath their scarlet boots. The forests beyond were crushed beneath the landing transport ships, with three great holes showing in the leaf canopy, and two more setting down as she watched.

A plume of smoke was spreading across the sky from behind them, and when Wanda turned to look at the hill above them, she saw the outline of a ship – a transport that had tried to land above the longhouse and which had taken damage and crashed. The behemoth shape poured smoke that caught the rising sun’s light and glowed in the air around them.

It had been paradise when they’d landed; now it was paradise lost.

At the edge of the downwards slope, Bucky stood with the Wakandans and the Guardians behind him, left hand outstretched towards the rising tide of the approaching army. The glove glowed with a yellow-gold aura, striking sparks in the new sunlight. Then a crackle of purple lightning spewed from the glove, leaping from his fingertips to the helmet of the lead attacker, before spreading from him to those behind him, around them, crackling through the ranks like a plague of death. And death was what it dealt.

Some kept running, some fell to their knees. But the purple lightning crackled around them – in them – and their eyes turned from pale to black, cracks crawling across the skin as though what had gone into them was now ripping them apart. They exploded in clumps and clusters, bursting into what looked like particles of ash that themselves burned up as they floated away. And Wanda watched the destruction and felt...satisfied, but also...revolted.

A cheer rose up from the small group at the top of the terraces.

“OKay,” said Clint, “so it’s not that complicated, just…kind of disturbing.”

“And you don’t even know the whole of it.”

Wanda turned to look at Doctor Strange and found him standing inside the golden fire of a portal that was sweeping towards her—

She was in the _Milano_ ’s hold.

The deck tilted as the _Milano_ manoeuvred through the air, and Wanda stumbled on the deck, then lifted herself just off the deck, cocooning herself in telekinesis relative to the ship so she wasn’t being tossed around.

Strange was already floating, his cloak swirling at the edges as he turned towards the cockpit.

“Why did you do that?”

He turned from the cockpit, and the world around them froze.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _End Of The Line_ by Henry Jackman  
> 

They were losing by the numbers.

Maria knew how this was supposed to go. She’d seen it in New York, in Sokovia. She’d seen it in S.H.I.E.L.D missions; it had been a trademark of the Howling Commandos. Hell, it was in every Hollywood story ever: the handful of plucky defenders go up against a seemingly endless enemy, and make good to save the day.

Hell, they’d done it themselves in the shadow-verse just last night.

But this was the first time she’d been in the middle of one of the full scale battles, actually participating, not just being a witness.

And, pragmatically, they were losing.

Quill navigated the _Milano_ through the waves of hornetmen, twisting and turning, pulling up and swooping down. He handled it with easy familiarity – a ship he didn’t have to think twice about. Three klicks over, the Q-ship was still disbursing fighters and aircraft, and although Captain Marvel – Fury’s Danvers in the flesh, come at his call – went to ‘deal with it’, she was still one against a behemoth.

“ _Avenger One,_ drop twenty now.” A moment later, the black shape of the Quinjet dropped thrusters and fell like a stone for twenty yards before the glow of the engines kicked in again. In those moments, Maria peppered the cloud of hornetmen with laser fire, fingers tapping swiftly across the board.

“Trigger happy again?” Natasha asked with smooth amusement.

Maria made the automatic response to that query – an old song that Barton used to try to sing to her, with particular emphasis on _try_. “ _I’m trigger-happy every day_.”

“You have no idea how good it is to hear that response.”

“I’ll just try to imagine it, then.”

There were questions she wanted to ask Natasha, things she wanted to know about the last year and a half. How she’d been doing. How the world had survived. Whether Steve had missed her, or if he found someone else among the survivors. But those were stupid, personal things that had no business in the middle of a battle. They weren’t passing notes in class – or even text messages out in the field. This was a fight for their lives and the lives of the world. The personal wasn’t important at this moment.

Maria pushed away the thought that the personal was why she was here at all.

What was important was that they get hold of the glove. That they used it to change everything back the way it was at the moment when Thanos tore the universe apart.

Where was the retrieval team?

There was no time to take her gaze off the field and see what was happening over by the longhouse. Earlier, Jane reported that there seemed to be some kind of a sinkhole happening up near the head of the house, like an earthquake was happening with cracks. But then they came under fire from one of the new craft that the Q-ships had dropped into the sky, and Quill had to do some fancy flying to get them out of it. When Maria looked back afterwards, there was no sinkhole, and Jane was at a loss to describe what she’d seen.

As they flipped around to dislodge a bunch of hornets which Najira shot down with her set of laser guns, Maria glimpsed the transport ships set down in the low woods. Another transport ship was burning on the upper slope – a failed attempt to land and disembark there – and— They swerved and turned, and this time, Maria whipped her head around so she could see.

“Is that Barnes coming out of the lodge?” She asked Jane, unable to keep her eyes from the targeting screen any longer. The hornetmen were still coming for them and if she didn’t at least help do something about them—

“With several Wakandans,” Jane commented. “Drax, Mantis, and Groot.”

“No sign of Thanos?”

“No, none. Oh! And Hulk, Loki, and the Valkyrie...” Jane paused, then said, “Yes, he’s got the glove!”

No mention of Steve or Peter, Wanda, or Clint, who’d dropped inside after firing an arrow. Maria didn’t let herself dwell, but switched channels. “Sitrep, Barnes.”

“Thanos is dead. I have the glove.” He said it calmly – more calmly than Maria liked. Cold slid down Maria’s spine. This wasn’t an agent reporting back to their mission ops leader, but the Operative informing his Controller what had been achieved.

 _He is better,_ said Ayo in confidence. _Princess Shuri named him the White Wolf, and his body is healed and his mind no longer obeys their commands. But what is done cannot be undone, and he bears the scars and perhaps always will._

Something in the longhouse had brought the Winter Soldier back to the surface. It wasn’t Maria’s job to probe that, just to get him out of it. She could answer like a typical handler, or she could take this gig off-road and try for new paths.

Maria matched his cool tone, but chose to be flippant with her words. “So did you try turning off the universe and turning it back on again?”

Jane snorted.

That brought Barnes out of it a little. “What—? Oh.” Now he sounded more himself. “I tried to make everything the way it was, but we’re missing one of the stones.”

Maria’s hand paused over the grid of squares that were her firing zone. Touching the symbols that moved around inside that zone would see them fired upon by the _Milano_ ’s guns. “Barnes, please confirm: you’re _missing_ one of the stones?”

“It vanished when I put it on,” he said. “The orange one.”

“The orange one is ‘soul’,” advised Quill grimly, clearly listening in. “It’s the one that cost Gamora her life.”

“I’m going to try attacking with the glove. Stay well clear.”

“Copy that.” Maria switched to a broader channel. “All units, stay clear of the lodge, Barnes is trying something...”

“Just so long as it doesn’t take his other arm off,” said Stark. “I don’t have any parents left, you know.”

“Seriously, Tony? Now?”

“Seriously, Rhodey, when else can you count on me to make tasteless jokes?”

“Apart from all the time?”

Maria shook her head at the exchange. Male bonding seemed to be much the same throughout the galaxy. Quill had been exchanging insults and quips with the guy at the helm of Avengers Two throughout the mission, too.

A look at the _Milano_ ’s targeting map confirmed their situation: two Q-ships, a half-dozen transports landing or making their way over. A flighted horde, and at least a dozen small craft which were giving both Avengers One and Two – or whatever they were calling the imitation _Milano_ – a hard time.

Down below, Barnes thrust out his left hand, and the glove glowed with a purple light, before violet lightning leaped from fingertip to foe to foe to foe, spreading like a transmissible disease.

Within seconds, the climbing army was ashes and smoke, exploded into tiny dark pieces that seemed to sift away, just as people had sifted away into nothingness when Thanos had snapped his fingers.

The cockpit was very quiet for a few pregnant seconds.

Then, “That,” said Najira quietly, “is not a power I would wish on anyone.”

She broke off at the same moment that Maria’s board froze. Her fingers tapped at the grid, but no crossed circle appeared to show that the team was being targeted. And then she realized it was silent.

Outside, the world had frozen. The hornetmen hovered in the air, unmoving. The dark shape of Avenger One was poised in a sharp dive beneath a smaller enemy craft that spat frozen fire from their gun barrels. And Wilson was a perfect silhouette of spread wings, punching for higher ground before he stooped.

“What the hell?”

But even as she turned her head to look at Najira, utterly still in the seat behind her, Maria knew what it was.

Strange floated in the hold, Wanda frowning up at him.

“Do I want to know what this is about?”

“You give a guess, and it will be as good as any of mine,” Wanda said. “I had no say in coming here.”

“Yes, that was me.” Strange spoke a little faster than usual, as though he was distracted or concerned. “I’ve brought us out of time because I remember the outcome of this scenario. It comprised, oh, about a quarter of a million possibilities. None of them ended well.”

“You’re saying we’re in the middle of a battle that we’re going to lose? And you couldn’t remember this half an hour ago?”

“Half an hour ago, time had no meaning for us – or, at least, not the same meaning it does now.” Strange was snippy. “You accused me of not knowing anything more than the signpost, but I remembered this signpost and the ending was not good.”

“You’ll have to be more specific than ‘not good’,” Maria began.

A whirling jumble of images, sounds, and feelings slammed into her, the forces of time splitting and separating out into different strands – choices upon choices upon choices. She reeled with shock as Barnes slammed the glove into the ground and burned Thanos’ armies from sky and land alike. She shivered with disquiet as he forced open a blue-rimmed portal to Earth and went home. And she shuddered with fear as the power of the glove corrupted a good man, act by needful act, piece by fragmented piece, until what was left held nothing dear – not even the life of his truest friend.

 _Perhaps there is a personal reason the White Wolf will not take up arms until battle is required of him,_ Okoye had said during a meeting with Maria and Pepper shortly after Barnes’ rehabilitation. _I trust the work of the Princess Shuri, yet I find myself...comforted in the knowledge that the White Wolf has bound himself to limits of his own choosing._

But there were no limits to the glove – none that mattered – and something in the mission had pushed Barnes past his self-imposed boundaries.

The torrent of foreknowledge ceased, and she grabbed for the table edge beside her, uncertain of her balance, but certain of where the mission was headed.

_We get the glove, whatever the cost._

It seemed that this was the cost.

“That is what you saw when you looked to the future?” Wanda demanded of Strange. She seemed less affected – or perhaps that was merely her abilities giving her an advantage.

“There was about sixty times that,” he said off-handedly. “Which is why I don’t remember most of it. But I remember this one, because it took up a large portion of possibility.”

“Is it just Barnes, or any of us could be susceptible?” Maria asked. Her mind was already working. If none of them could use the glove then— “No, never mind.” Think about that later.

Right now, she had to work out how to keep that future from coming to pass.

Mission Objective: get the glove at all costs and change the world back.

They had the glove. But Barnes had tried to change the world back and he’d failed, because the glove no longer had the Soul stone. They needed the Soul stone. They needed time to find it. In the middle of a battle, with Barnes wielding the glove, they didn’t have time.

The full weight of what needed to be done hit her then. She looked at Strange, who was watching her, and saw the understanding of it there. He knew what had to be done – he’d seen it when he’d first started them on this path and urged them on in the full knowledge of what they’d be asked to do.

“You’re talking about a strategic retreat with massive losses,” she said quietly.

“Emotive losses, perhaps.” Strange sounded dispassionate about it – perhaps, too much so. He’d learned to cut his emotions off from his actions – well, and he’d been a world-class surgeon, after all. “But the world doesn’t rise or fall on a handful of people.”

“Tell that to Nick Fury.”

“What are you talking about?” Wanda hadn’t quite caught up yet. “A strategic retreat— But Thanos is dead!”

“We can’t undo what Thanos has done without the Soul stone. But we don’t have time to find the Soul stone before Barnes uses the glove and becomes corrupted by it. But we have time – on the other side.”

Now the other woman got it. She drew in a sharp breath. “You intend to go back and leave the others here?” Wanda didn’t add ‘to die’ but then, she didn’t need to.

“We are here to undo what was done to the universe,” Maria said steadily, wondering why it didn’t feel more personal. “We won’t be able to do that if we don’t have the glove or the people to use it. And I rather like Barnes as he is, uncorrupted by power!”

“He has the Space stone – he could take the others through—” Wanda fell silent.

“His control of it isn’t complete.” There’d been no branch of possibility that had Barnes opening a doorway to Earth for the Avengers before most of them were destroyed by the attackers. The only way to take the Avengers out of the fight was by making the portal, and the only way to make the portal was to destroy the attackers. And if Barnes destroyed the attackers with the glove, they’d lose Barnes.

“And you would leave Steve to die?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it.”

Wanda was going to say something, but shook herself. When she spoke, it was with quiet resignation. “They won’t forgive you, you know.”

“It won’t be the first time I’ve faced that, either.”

She’d known there’d be no forgiveness for her after instigating the firing program on the Insight helicarriers when Steve was still on board. It had been pure luck that Steve had made it off, alive and whole, if not conscious. Maria didn’t expect that luck a second time – fortune had been good to her these last four years. But for someone like her, fortune was on credit, and now it was time to pay the bill – with interest.

In the last four years she’d earned their trust; now she was going to break it. Perhaps irrevocably.

_The price of freedom is great..._

Her hand pressed to her stomach, reminder and reassurance.

“I’ll live with it,” she told Wanda, and wondered that her voice didn’t crack. “Maybe the question is: can you live with it?”

“Why would I—?” Wanda stopped.

The others wouldn’t leave of their own will – they were heroes, fighting to their last breath. _Never give up, never say die._ But Maria was no hero. She was just a woman trying to save the world with what she had.

What she had was a woman capable of making others see things, believe things, act upon them.

Wanda’s gaze had slid past her, out the window, to the frozen fight before them. She looked at Strange. “This is the only way to undo it?”

“Yes.”

Maria sensed that if there’d been any hesitation in Strange’s voice, then Wanda wouldn’t have agreed. Maybe that was why there was none.

But Wanda’s mouth was pinched at the corners as she turned to Maria. “All right, then. How are you going to make them walk away from the battle?”

There was no way they’d walk away.

Which left Maria with only one option.

By the time she slipped back into her chair, it felt like hours had passed. But there was the board, still frozen, with the firing solution at hand and ready for her activation. She glanced back at Strange, hands over her board, and nodded with a certainty she didn’t feel.

Time restarted, jarring noise and blurring action, and she tapped targets across the board, enabling firing solutions left and right.

Because she was listening for it, she heard Wanda’s whisper of breath. And suddenly the thought of leaving him without warning was too much.

Maria opened up a line. “Steve? Do you remember the helicarriers?”

A second passed, then another. “I remember.”

She could hear the sound of battle in the background. As the _Milano_ banked, she glimpsed the purple-tinged fury of the glove’s destructive power leaping from fighter to fighter, destroying them in a blink. Barnes wasn’t hesitating to eliminate anything that got in his way. He had something to prove, and he was proving it with every blast of the glove. And the more he used the glove, the harder it would be for him to give it up, whether here or in the Shadow-realm.

She thought, if Steve knew the whole story, he’d understand.

She hoped.

“I need to activate the program. Do you trust me?”

This time, the hesitation was less. “I trust you,” he said, and his voice was clear. “Do it!”

Below her, in the piloting seat, Quill had turned to stare at Jane, who was staring back at him. Slowly but surely, her hand reached out to him and his reached out to hers, and—

Everything melted around them, like a chalk painting left out in the rain to wash away.

The _Milano_ stayed, and so did the clear and sharp figures of the others who’d come through from the shadow realm, tiny figures in a blurring landscape that shifted orange and then suddenly sharpened up, like a phone camera refocusing.

Maria’s stomach lurched. They were in freefall, several hundred yards above the surface of shadow-Titan – and they weren’t the only ones. Wilson got his wings under him pretty swiftly, and Parker flung out an anchorline and caught a building, but the Wakandans and Barnes and the Guardians had nothing beneath them but empty air.

They fell.

Quill cursed and wrestled the yoke under control, goosing the thrusters and giving them more juice to cope with the thinner atmosphere of Titan. And even as Maria watched the tiny figures falling with a sick sense of inevitability, she saw them slow down, stop, hover, and then drift more gently down towards the ground. A glance at Wanda showed where that assistance had come from, a fine pearl of sweat covering the young woman’s brow as she stretched her skills to keep them from falling.

All across the communications and in the cockpit, questions rebounded back and forth. What had happened? How had they come back? Why had they left the others behind?

Maria fought nausea as the ship descended. Below them, in the camp, the assembled ranks of the Wakandans looked up and shifted in surprise, and perhaps some disappointment that the awaited signal for transfer to battle would never come. T’Challa and Ayo and one of T’Challa’s leaders stood to the side, while Nick sat on a chair beneath a cloak that had been set up to shade him.

She wondered who’d managed to persuade him to sit down, and how they’d done it.

She really needed some fresh air – and a cool glass of water.

But mostly air.

As soon as the ship had landed, Quill turned to look at Jane, then her. “What was that?”

Jane glared back at him. “Don’t ask me; I wasn’t in on it!”

Maria heard them only distantly. She needed air.

Air.

The seat buckle wouldn’t give way, she nearly yanked the harness off herself before she managed to press the clip correctly. The instant she got free, she made for the ramp. Behind her, she heard Quill calling after her, telling her she couldn’t run away from this. She ignored him, half-stumbling down the ramp and out into the bleak sky of a wasted planet, taking great gulps of breath, as though she could stave off the nausea.

There was no way she was going to be able to stave off the coming confrontation.

She just wanted some air.

Wanda slid an arm around her back. “You should probably sit,” she began.

“Hill!”

Barnes was still wearing the glove. In the broad daylight of the shadowlands, it looked battered and hard-used, but no less ominous for the five glowing stones in its knuckles.

“What the hell just happened? Why’d you call us back?”

Sam circled around and dropped the last few yards, his wings folding neatly into the pack again. “We weren’t even called back,” he said. “You just took us out of the world.”

“We left them behind,” Barnes said fiercely. “We don’t do that.”

“ _You_ don’t,” Maria answered him with careful emphasis. “And, may I point out, you have the Infinity Glove along with the Reality stone.”

Barnes glanced down at his gold-encased left hand. “I can’t seem to use all the stones,” he said. “Some of them don’t respond, others do. But you made us abandon them!”

“We went to get the glove,” she said, aware of a threatening headache. “We got the glove.”

“We left them behind.” Did he realise that the glove was showing a purple tinge?

“It wasn’t a fight we could win,” she told him. Not without losing things they could afford to lose – like his humanity. Even now, the glove was showing a purple tinge, and the fingers were flexing like he was considering using it. And that was the issue, wasn’t it? Power used was so easily power abused – even in Bucky Barnes, one time Howling Commando, formerly the Winter Soldier, now the White Wolf.

The nausea was fading. That was good. But she was going to need a seat before much longer. Maybe a nap.

“We could have tried,” Barnes said and now the purple tinge turned to crackling sparks of lightning. “You didn’t even let us try.”

Maria’s breath caught as the world slid a little sideways.

Wanda’s arm tightened around her, and her first instinct was to shrug it off. Then her vision flashed in hard, bright colours and though she briefly closed her eyes against the effect, when she opened it, everything seemed blurry and grainy. Even the voices felt distant.

“Hill?”

“Commander?”

She was blinking blearily at the scarlet weave of a Dora Milaje uniform, and there were extra arms around her and people crowding around.

“We can ease her down, now.”

Dust and rocks skittered out from beneath her as they lowered her to the ground. But there’d been—there’d been a confrontation. You didn’t dare show weakness in a confrontation, because the guys in STRIKE would never let you live it down—

Her heels kicked out as she tried to get her feet beneath her, panic fluttering beneath her breastbone. “I’m fine—”

“You’re the opposite of fine right now.” The tone made her tense: Nick in full Director mode, with an edge to his voice. “Sit down and let them look you over, Maria!”

The name confused her, and she looked for him, caught the grim, almost angry expression, then closed her eyes as her vision flashed again with the hard, bright overtones—

Everything faded.

 


	17. Part Four: Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how are we doing? Are you enjoying this? Horrified? Confused? I'd love to hear from you, particularly since this section contains the scene which I first envisioned when I began writing this story, so writing it was very much a rush!
> 
> Sonography:  
>  _The Hours_ by Philip Glass

Nick was accustomed to putting together fragmentary reports from various sources to work out what had happened. It was practically the brief for a senior agent, particularly one who oversaw complex missions.

Thanos was dead - killed by his _other_ daughter, Nebula, who’d worked with Quill’s lot before.

Hela had nearly gotten the glove before Barnes had beaten her to the punch, at which point Strange had tossed her into a portal and left her there, while Barnes started using the glove to take out the enemy.

According to everyone, it had been going really well.

Right up until Maria pulled the plug without warning.

“I mean, I guess she had reasons,” Parker said. “It’s Miz Hill. I just...we were winning. Mister Barnes was destroying Thanos’ armies with the glove - like _poof_ and they were gone! Why would she pull us out when we were winning?”

That was the thing that nobody understood - and Maria wasn’t exactly in a position to explain, with whatever was going on with her deciding to happen _right now_. The Dora Milaje hadn’t quite shooed Nick away, but they’d told him in no uncertain terms that they’d come and tell him if there was anything he needed to know. Nick noted the ‘need to know’ clause and figured that was the best he was going to get. But Maria hadn’t been doing great for a while now, and the last few days - or whatever time period they were looking at since they’d come here - had only seemed to make it worse.

“You pulled us out,” Wilson said to Quill and Doc Foster. “What did she tell you?”

“She didn’t,” Quill snapped. “We were just as surprised as the rest of you!”

Jane folded her arms. “I saw my father, sitting in an armchair with one of his journals in hand, holding out his hand to me.”

She looked at Quill. So did everyone else.

Quill didn’t quite squirm, but he stiffened at the scrutiny, then glared around the circle. “I saw my mom, okay? She died of cancer when I was a kid back on Earth, and I wouldn’t take her hand at the end before she died. Only, when I started to reach out to her, she turned into Gamora and said we had to go back _now_.”

“We...saw things that weren’t there,” Jane said bluntly, and turned to Maximoff, who’d been standing a little to the side, watching all this. “That’s your specialty, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Maximoff answered with cool self-possession. “It is.” She looked around at the others. “Maria made the decision, but I carried it out.”

“Hill wanted you back here for a reason,” Nick said. He trusted it was a good reason, even if he had a few questions he wanted to ask. “Knowing Hill, it’s a solid reason.”

“She could have asked.”

Nick snorted, and arched an eyebrow at Wilson. “And would any of you have come if you’d been _asked_?”

“None of us would have returned had we not called you,” Maximoff burst out. “We saw that.”

“You _saw_ that?” Barnes asked, and looked to Strange.

“Wait, Dr I-Saw-It-But-I-Don’t-Remember-It-All showed _you_ the future but not the rest of us?”

“You didn’t need to know what might have happened.” Strange didn’t quite sound bored, but the note of superiority was unmistakeable. He’d made the call, and he knew best. Nick had heard it often enough before to know how to deal with it in his own head; others didn’t have that wealth of experience, and their expressions showed varying degrees of frustration and anger.

“Oh, I think we could do with knowing now, at least.” Wilson looked expectantly at Maximoff, who looked calmly back.

“We won the battle for our lives and the planet,” she said. “We lost the war.”

“But how could we lose the war?” Parker asked. “We had the glove! It’s, like, the most powerful thing in the universe!”

“Perhaps,” said T’Challa, watching Maximoff with a judicious eye, “it wasn’t a war against others, but against ourselves?”

As the king of the most technologically advanced country in the world, the man probably had some hands-on experience of the line between ‘it can be done’ and ‘it shouldn’t be done’.

“The most powerful thing in the universe is just the most powerful thing in the universe,” Nick pointed out. “Doesn’t mean it comes with better judgement.”

“Exhibit A, Thanos,” muttered Doc Foster.

“Look who’s talking,” Barnes said, looking pointedly at Nick. He hadn’t taken off the glove - didn’t even seem to be aware that he was still wearing it, or that the gems in it had an ominous light.

“Yes,” Nick agreed. “And if you look at who’s talking, then you’ll see why you should be listening when I tell you it doesn’t do any good to gain the whole world, and lose your soul in the process.”

He settled himself back on the seat the Wakandans had set up for him to sit in - one of the perks of age - and knew he was drawing the eyes of everyone around. Which suited him fine. Barnes might have the glove, but Nick had age and authority and experience in dealing with complicated situations involving people and egos and tempers – situations that _weren’t_ supposed to end up in a body count.

“The Wakandans tell me I’m ‘holding the fort with wisdom.’ Or maybe they’re just trying to keep me out of the way.” He shot T’Challa a look and the King had the grace to look abashed for a second before he smiled. “Well, now you’re the beneficiaries of my wisdom which is this. Maybe you don’t want to be using that glove for anything less than changing the universe back to what it was. Don’t use it for small shit, because once the genie’s out of the bottle, it won’t go back in so nicely.

“And yeah, I collected power – both political and temporal and weaponry – as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. That was my job – to put together a force that could keep the world safe from what else might be out there. But the Avenger Initiative was to be kept for a specific situation – when we faced something bigger than us – something for which we needed big guns.”

“And the Insight helicarriers?” That was Wilson, naturally.

“Well, that’s what happens when you get ahead of yourself.” Nick could say it now as he’d only been able to regret it before. He’d overplayed himself, and HYDRA had taken advantage of that. He’d lost S.H.I.E.L.D for that, and nearly lost his life, too. “I suspect that what Hill and Maximoff saw was us all getting ahead of ourselves.”

“And how do you _know_ this is so, General?”

Because he’d trained Hill. Because he was familiar with the way she thought. Because they were all still standing around here jabber-jawing when half the universe had ended.

“You got the glove - that was half the mission. Fixing what Thanos did was the other half of the mission but we’re still here.” He said those words more slowly, letting them sink in. “We have the glove, but Thanos went hunting for six stones, so we’ve heard, and there’s only five in that thing. Now, I’m sure five Infinity stones is a big deal objectively, but when someone’s used _six_ of them to turn the universe upside down, I’m guessing that five just ain’t going to fry its bacon. So we have what’s known as ‘the solution, but not all the solution’. And whatever Hill and Maximoff saw - whatever Strange showed them - was judged bad enough that they thought pulling the plug on the entire mission was safer than leaving you all there.”

That was making them think at least, cutting through the emotive losses.

Nick looked around, making as much eye contact as possible. “I may not know Maximoff, but I know Hill. When she makes the call, I’ve learned to listen pretty damn hard, because even if she isn’t right, she’s seeing things you’re not.”

“Well, we’re seeing our friends crash and burn because we left them up against unthinkable numbers,” Wilson said flatly. “We don’t do that.”

His eyes rested on Maximoff.

“This is growing tiring,” Strange said, brusquely. “The point at which you used the glove to save the others was the point at which you lost the war. An infinity stone is better off unused than used, because the use of it corrupts - and the more use that’s made of it, the harder and faster it corrupts.”

“Uh, Mister Strange, you’ve been wearing one for years!”

“I’ve been wearing it, and _not_ using it,” Strange retorted. “When I do use it, it’s the tiniest thread of its power, meant to keep something small but effective running for a very long time - or doing something brief but very intense. In addition to which,” he added, “the nature of linear Time _is_ corruption, and dealing with that has been a large part of my training.”

Maximoff met Wilson’s gaze. “The point at which we stayed to save the others was the point at which we lost our chance to undo Thanos’ evil. We could not afford that.” Did her eyes linger on Barnes, or was that just Nick’s imagination? Either way, her next appeal was to Wilson. “We had to, Sam. And Steve understood.”

“That’s easy to say when he’s probably dead,” Barnes said grimly.

Was the glove starting to show a faint purple glow again, or was that Nick’s fevered fancy?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Quill suddenly pushed into the space and strode towards Barnes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do I think—?” Barnes drew back, putting the glove out of Quill’s reach – and yes, there was definitely a purple glow – as Quill groped at empty air—

Or not so empty. His hand landed on thin air, and suddenly Loki was standing there, his hands frozen in the act of reaching for where Barnes had been standing. It was as sudden as if an invisible cloak had just dropped away.

Weapons lifted, aimed at him, and he raised his hands and smiled. “Now, that’s interesting...”

“Were you trying to steal the glove?”

Loki eyed Quill, then did something—and vanished. Gasps resounded through the air, and Quill looked around surprised. His gaze fell on Doc Foster, who was looking to either side of her in confusion, then murmured something to Najira next to her, who shook her head, her eyes never leaving the empty space where Loki had stood.

Quill grabbed thin air again – this time in a slightly different direction, and once again Loki appeared.

“Loki...” The Valkyrie spoke warningly. “What are you doing?”

“Testing a theory,” he said, as casually as if he hadn’t just been caught trying to steal the Infinity glove. “Several of them, actually.”

He smiled benignly and put his hands back up in the air – a fair show of docile and penitent, if there was anyone present left believing him.

The Valkyrie wasn’t about to leave it there. “ _What_ theory?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m sure,” Loki told her. “Until then, I imagine I’m going back under guard again to keep me from attempting the glove again.”

The man – Jotun, whatever – had balls. Nick would give him that. But keeping him under guard wasn’t necessary if they could do something about the glove.

“We got anywhere to store that thing that makes it hard to get at?” He gestured at the glove and looked to Strange.

“I can keep it,” Strange said. “Although it may not be comfortable.”

“Less comfortable than having it lying around for just anyone with a yen to pick up?”

“True. Well, if Scarlet Witch will spell it first so it can’t be used until she unspells it, then I’ll put it away. That way it does neither of us any good.”

“Unless you’re working together,” Nick pointed out. “But we’ll assume you’re not.”

“Kind of you.” The sardonic note in Strange’s voice was so sharp, it could have sliced ham.

He looked to Barnes.

Nick looked at Barnes.

Everyone looked to Barnes, who stared back, blankly defiant.

Barnes looked down at the glove with the look of a man letting go of something he hadn’t known he wanted until it was being taken away from him. His fingers closed into a fist as he looked back up. Nick could almost see the speculation in Barnes’ eyes and wondered – after being stripped of his agency for so long, his better nature buried and his baser nature twisted, what would it be like to have that kind of ability suddenly at his fingertips?

T’Challa tilted his head. “White Wolf.”

It might have been a command; certainly there was expectation in it.

Barnes’ head whipped around to stare at the Black Panther. Dust pattered across the planetary surface around them. Then, in one swift, almost tortured yank, he dragged the glove off and thrust it towards Maximoff. “Take it.”

She lifted it from his hand telekinetically, casting a scarlet-threaded net around it before passing it to Strange, who vanished it into one of his swirling magic gates.

The ripple of an almost-sigh soughed through the air.

“Okay, so now what?” Quill demanded. “We have the glove, but we don’t have all the stones. And the one that’s missing is Soul, which we have no idea how to get – only where Thanos went to get it the first time, and that he killed Gamora to get it.”

“Vormir.” Mantis looked anxious – or maybe that was her default expression. “He left for Vormir with Gamora and he came back without her, but he had the Soul stone.”

“ _I am Groot!_ ”

“It’s an infinity stone, Groot,” Quill said. “It’s not going anywhere.”

“Why did it vanish when the White Wolf took the glove?” The shorter of the two Wakandans who’d been on the mission asked the question with his hands spread wide. “What is its nature?”

“It’s an infinity stone,” Quill repeated. He seemed to be caught on this point. “It doesn’t have a _nature_ , it’s a force _of_ nature!”

“Well, wherever it went, it’s gone,” Wilson said. “And we can’t do jack without it.”

“Perhaps we need to begin to work out where it went.”

There was muttering and murmuring, conversations and discussions rising among the groups. Everyone had an opinion on what should happen next. Everyone wanted to have a say—

Maqila, the Dora Milaje who’d seen to Maria, appeared at the edge of the gathering, pausing to take stock. She looked around and met Nick’s gaze and at his jerk of the head, came towards him.

“Is she awake?” Nick asked.

“Not yet.” She murmured. Then, seeing the conversations around them dying down, she added, “Commander Hill is fine. So far as we can tell, she is simply exhausted. Her body rhythms are now of sleep not unconsciousness, and both she and the child are healthy, so far as the simple scans we have with us can tell. Iyanu will stay with her so she does not wake alone.”

There was a moment of silence.

Then, carefully, Nick asked, “The _child_?”

Maqila stared at him for a moment. “The commander is with child – at least nine or ten weeks...perhaps even close to twelve—”

She looked around, as though suddenly realising that this wasn’t common knowledge. Nick was relieved to see that other people looked as surprised as he felt – then again, Maria wasn’t exactly the type to freely share her personal information about.

Ten weeks...that would make it just before she’d come when he called for her urgent assistance with a situation in Hong Kong. She’d arrived serene and controlled and tightly leashed within a dozen hours of his request and wouldn’t talk about where she’d been or who she’d been with.

Not that Nick had particularly needed it said; he was one-eyed, not blind.

Across the group, Wilson’s eyes were wide, and Maximoff’s mouth fell open in an ‘oh’ of understanding. Which only confirmed what Nick already knew.

“With child?” T’Challa looked surprised. “But then, who—?”

Nick wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed that more than a few faces turned his way – including Barnes. “It’s not mine,” he said sharply. “What do you take me for? And no,” he added as several people dropped their gazes, “I didn’t know she was pregnant.”

It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing they talked about. There were things that they knew about each other but which they’d agreed not to know, for the sake of their comfort levels with each other. It had been that way at S.H.I.E.L.D – professional formality – and even after S.H.I.E.L.D was gone, Nick had never seen a reason to change that, whether it was her relationship with Rogers, or her emotional frame of mind.

And maybe if he happened to have a block of her preferred kind of chocolate when they met, or she sent him cute cat videos, well, that was just courtesy.

They weren’t sharing people – certainly not that way.

“She may have only suspected for herself,” said Maqila swiftly. “It is early days – and risky ones.”

Nick didn’t point out that the woman had thought it okay to share that piece of news with the rest of the group; but then, so far as he’d gleaned along the way, children and childbirth in Wakanda were perceived very differently to children and childbirth – and motherhood – in America. Among the Dora Milaje, a pregnancy would be planned and prepared for, a cause for celebration and care. The mother was given options – options for her child, options for herself and her future beyond the birth, and would be born into a kind of extended family.

“But she’s doing okay?” Wilson asked, carefully neutral.

The woman seemed surprised at the question. “Yes,” she glanced at T’Challa and Ayo, and then back at Sam. “More rest will certainly do her better. These shadow-lands are not kind on a body with a growing soul inside.”

“Then perhaps the solution is to find an ending to this...exile in which we find ourselves?” T’Challa said smoothly. “After those who have been on the mission have taken time to refresh themselves,” he added.

And probably giving everyone a chance to cool down after the adrenaline rush of the mission.

T’Challa looked around, his expression pleasant but inexorable, radiating calm authority.

Barnes was the first to leave, turning around and walking away without looking backwards. After a moment’s discussion, Wilson and another Wakandan headed after him. Wilson looked back at Nick for a moment, almost as though he was considering speaking with Nick, before deciding against it and just going after Barnes.

“Let us hope that the Falcon can give the White Wolf the necessary balance to his anger,” murmured Ayo quietly. “Much work has been done with him by the Princess, but there is still a struggle within him.”

Nick glanced at her. “I thought you took all the programming out.”

“The programming, yes. But the conditioning of a lifetime...” Ayo shrugged. “The patterns we learn are not commands in the way that his suborning as the Winter Soldier was, but he will always be fierce in his nature, protective of right and wrong, and passionate about his right to choose his battles. Those things were in him at the beginning of his journey, and his experiences and training have carved those beliefs into deeper channels.”

“Are you a psychologist?”

Ayo grinned. “In some measure. I am a diplomat, General. I study the people beyond Wakanda’s borders, particularly those who might stand in Wakanda’s orbit.”

“And then you advise His Majesty on the matter.”

“Along with others who have made their own observations in the world.” Her gaze swept the assembly of people, which was rapidly dissolving into smaller groups. “The White Wolf has been wise enough to recognise his own nature, at least. He forbore to take up the arm unless his skills were urgently needed - by Wakanda or by the wider world. For the last year he has lived harmlessly, doing nothing more than the goat-farming of the area where he has settled, and living quietly in the community.”

“Bucky Barnes, war hero, and goat farmer...” Nick shook his head. Then again, he supposed, that was more or less what he himself was doing - whiling away his time, waiting to be called up.

Difference was, people would still call for Barnes.

_Even if we were real, who’d call us?_

Nick was going to have to think about that pretty hard soon. After the end of the world, he might have to face that he no longer had a place in it - or, at least, to face that he no longer had a place in it as a defender of the world.

And after everything he’d done it wasn’t a pleasant thought.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Lily's Theme_ by Alexandre Desplat

The Guardians were arguing among themselves in low voices - Drax was arguing with Groot, and neither of them seemed particularly pleased, insofar as Nick could tell when a blue-and-red alien escapee from the WWF and a baby tree alien were displeased. Mantis seemed to be trying to make peace; she was stroking Quill’s shoulder and he seemed to be calming down a little, although he still clearly wasn’t happy about either Hill’s decision or Maximoff’s deception. After a few seconds of arguing, though, Mantis said something, her black eyes earnest and appealing, and after a grumpy moment of consideration, the four of them started trailing up to the ship. A few of the Wakandans jogged after them as they headed up the slope to the ship, which was showing the signs of the fight in claws and scrapes and other things.

Just being friendly, or monitoring that group?

Well, why not both?

Nick surveyed those who were still around and didn’t figure he’d get much of a view from any of them. Maria would have given him her perspective but...well, she was down for the count, at least for an hour or two. Probably just as well; she’d made a hard call, and people needed the time to process it.

Some of them would, others would struggle. That was always the case.

Doc Foster had drifted off to speak with Najira, but had been intercepted by Maximoff on the way, and the two were discussing something very intently before Maximoff gave a sharp shake of her head. Doc Foster blinked, but promptly turned to head off to another area for a private discussion of whatever it was, and after a moment, Najira followed them.

“Thick as thieves, those three,” said Ayo dryly. “We should count ourselves lucky if they don’t destroy us all the name of science and magic.”

Nick figured they were pretty safe on the science front, but the magic? That was a whole other level of beast.

He had his misgivings about Maximoff; the young woman was too volatile, too powerful, too independent. If she’d come to light while he was head of S.H.I.E.L.D...well, he’d probably have been a lot less circumspect about her existence. Telepaths were dangerous to start with, and one who’d been through everything Maximoff had experienced was unlikely to be stable. The fact that she hadn’t yet unleashed herself was no guarantee that she wouldn’t.

Maybe he was just getting old and grumpy and cautious. Maria seemed to have no trouble with Maximoff, after all, and neither had any of the Avengers - old or new.

He just didn’t like it much.

Anyway, the triumvirate of women who probably wouldn’t hesitate to blow up the planet were not his problem to deal with - not right now. Depending on how Maria felt when she woke up, it might end up being his problem, but until then, Nick figured he could ignore it and leave it for someone else to worry about.

In the meantime, he’d harness his advantages with the Wakandans.

Hauling himself up, Nick moseyed on down to the mess hall, where some of the Wakandans had begun to retire for more coffee, or herbal teas, or even just plain water. He’d noticed that the Wakandans were a pretty social people. Even their quieter members tended to sit in groups, legs stretched out, saying nothing, observing much. Nick got himself a mug of coffee and found himself a place to sit a little way away from the established groups socializing. In a little while, someone would come up to him and see if he wanted some company; if so, they’d stay to talk, if not, they’d head off elsewhere and leave him to his peace.

Right now, Nick was in the mood to talk - or to hear someone else talk. He wanted opinions, arguments, reviews, considerations. He’d take complaints, concerns, or even whines, although the Wakandans didn’t seem much like the type to whine.

But he wanted people to bring their thoughts to him, rather than go looking for them.

As a means of intelligence gathering for a Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, it sucked.

As a means of intelligence gathering for Nick Fury among the Wakandans, it was pretty effective.

Within a few minutes, he had a couple of warriors ask if they could sit with him. When he gestured around them, they sat themselves down and speculated on what Strange had caused Maria and Maximoff to see - and just how true it had been.

“Does he then say that the White Wolf became corrupted by the glove?” asked one of the younger men. “It seems unlikely. He’s an honorable man.”

“For a coloniser who had no understanding of his history when he first came among us,” muttered someone on the other side.

“Irrelevant and a diversion,” said yet another man - older than both. “Anyone can be corrupted, give them only the reasons. The Usurper N’Jadaka comes of the blood of his Majesty, but he was prepared to betray our seclusion for revenge.”

“Say rather for vengeance,” said the first speaker, bitterly. “And the King then revealed our existence any road, and now Wakanda is a ruin, without the numbers to protect itself, its defences in disarray...”

One of the others spoke in Wakandan - like an argument, or maybe a chiding. The young man flashed something back, and if the tone carried restraint, it seemed pretty clear he was frustrated, either by what was going on here, or else what had been happening back on Earth.

Nick thought about the discussion he’d had with T’Challa that morning - about purpose in life and a place in the world, about things done that couldn’t be undone.

“English, please, in courtesy for the General.”

“Oh, don’t bother on my account,” Nick told them mildly.

“Thank you, General.” The young man stood. “However, Z’Kadi is correct that this is not courteous to an elder and I will take myself someplace else.”

He gave Nick a quick nod, then walked briskly away. Several of the other, younger men similarly bowed and went after him, murmuring apologies. One hesitated. “There is more to M’Dava’s frustration, General—”

“I don’t need to know it,” Nick assured him. “We’re all a little antsy here - some more than others. Go help your friend out. No offence has been given.”

“That was gracious,” Z’Kadi said as the cook, B’Suve, ambled up with a couple of steaming mugs, one of which he offered to Nick.

“Yeah, well, I can afford a little grace now I’m so old and wise.” Nick snorted and took the cup. “And I’m used to waiting, and things not going my way. What’s this now?”

“Beef stew. Compliments of the kitchen.”

It smelled like beef stew. It _tasted_ like beef stew. Nick lifted an eyebrow at B’Suve who grinned.

“And of the good Dr. Foster’s memory of what a hunk of beef looks like.”

“You brought none for the rest of us?”

Nick supposed the response B’Suve gave in Wakandan amounted to, _You’ve got legs, get it yourself._ Or possibly _And what did your last slave die of?_

“You know,” he commented as he slurped the soup, “I’m surprised Quill didn’t try to recreate candy from his childhood.”

“The idea was tossed around, but we felt it was safer to trust in Dr. Foster’s culinary memory than Quill’s childhood recollections.” B’Suve smirked as he settled himself into one of the seats that were rapidly vacating now that there was the prospect of food on the horizon. “Several people were most disappointed; you would be surprised how many have a fondness for terrible American pizza.”

“I headed up an agency with departments full of analytical staff,” Nick reminded him. “Human food habits haven’t surprised me in decades.”

“Well, with Commander Hill in childbearing, you have a new experience ahead of you,” said one of the men about to head off to get his meal, grinning with fond reminiscence. “My wife wanted the outlandish, the bizarre, and the impossible to acquire.”

Nick frowned. “I’m not the babydaddy.”

The man blinked. “Of course, General, but surely as _ushaviat_ you will still—” He trailed off and looked to B’Suve, and then to Z’Kadi, and then said something in Wakandan.

This time, Nick _did_ mind being left out of the conversation. But he waited patiently for someone to translate for the old General - respected for his wisdom, but still not Wakandan for all that.

“What is meant,” B’Suve remarked as Z’Kadi said something chiding to the man who’d spoken of his wife, “is something for which your language does not have an equivalent. Intimacy implies sexual involvement, the term ‘family’ is only for blood and marriage. _Ushaviat_ is familial in feeling, but not necessarily tender.”

“The Dora Milaje are _ushaviat_ to each other and among their immediate families,” Z’Kadi offered. “They are comrades in arms and in battle and in intent, caring for and with each other, but more personally. I think your language says it to be like siblings? But even that is not correct, for family is born of blood, but this is a chosen comradeship.”

“A sorority, then?” Only _sorority_ seemed like entirely the wrong word for anything as collective and determined as the Dora Milaje. The English word worked better. “The sisterhood?”

“But not only women. Anyone can be _ushaviat_ \- it is a term used among the close-knit groups of warriors. A family that is bound by more than shared blood,” said B’Suve. “My sister was a Dora Milaje, and she would say ‘to be Dora Milaje is to belong to the breastplate of Wakanda - and the breastplate of Wakanda is one, or else it could not defend the heart’.”

Nick thought about it. Thought about the last two months when he could have left Maria to her own devices, or when Maria could have gone her own way as she had so many times before. She hadn’t said anything about moving on, and neither had he, but they’d fallen into easy habits together – a morning coffee, a midday meal, dealing with business late into the night...

“ _Ushaviat_?”

“Your language has no word for it – you compartmentalize rather than integrate, segregate rather than combine...”

“A cultural blindspot?”

“Or possibly a human one.” B’suve shrugged. “But a word to the wise. The Dora Milaje have taken to Commander Hill - in part because of the mark of her loyalty to you. Should the commander desire to keep the child, they will be giving her and you advice on how to deal with the pregnancy - and expect you to keep her from running herself into the ground.”

“They do know that’s a big ask?”

“My sister was Dora Milaje, two decades ago, and more. She is retired now - teaches histories, war, and conflict. During her first pregnancy, she came close to losing the babe because she could not to stop - she didn’t know how to. Some of them work out how to ease back, others lack the ability to disengage. And the Dora Milaje help in managing those - both for the individual’s safety and health as well as for the good of the whole.”

“You think they’re gonna enlist me?”

“I suspect they judge you as the most likely for the commander to listen to - after all, she has spent many years heeding your orders.”

“At her own convenience,” Nick felt compelled to point out. “And this all assumes she’s going to keep it.”

As yet, nobody had asked Maria what she wanted. Hell, she didn’t even know that her pregnancy had been outed. And she certainly wasn’t going to be happy about that when she woke.

“Well,” said Z’Kadi dryly, “if she doesn’t, then the Dora Milaje will doubtless offer her options also.”

“Is that also _ushaviat_?”

“I don’t think they would consider it so,” B’Suve mused. “It is just the practicality of the Dora Milaje. But a woman has many options available to her during and after childbirth in Wakanda. Bast is the goddess of pregnancy and childbirth, and in her wisdom she decreed that bearing a child need not be the setback and burden for a woman that it is in the world beyond Wakanda.”

Nick was doubtful that would extend to Maria; after all, a pregnant Wakandan woman with all her support systems around her was one thing, a pregnant woman out in the world - and, moreover, a professional intelligence agent - was going to face her own set of issues. The respect of the Dora Milaje might go a long way, but Nick doubted it would extend to the kind of support Maria was going to need.

Although, to be fair, they’d given sanctuary to Barnes, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility...

The other men went off to get their food, exchanging stories about their own partners’ pregnancies, and Nick finished up his soup. B’Suve watched the cluster of people down where the cooking was happening with a master sergeant’s eye.

“Something you’re particularly worried about?”

“No. It’s in good hands and I’ve done my part. “ B’Suve glanced at Nick. “You were never a father yourself?”

“No.” And Nick hadn’t felt the lack. “Never figured it was fair to the mother or the kid.” Plus, being the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D meant being in a whole lot of crosshairs, none of which he would wish on someone he cared about.

He’d regretted his ambitions a few times - mostly when going back to visit the Rambeaus. Maria Rambeau was good people, and her daughter had thought of him as an honorary uncle in the years following Carol’s departure. Still, those visits had also highlighted the danger he was putting them in by singling them out as people who mattered. He’d lost track of them about ten years ago, and while he could have found them, he’d already started having the feeling he was being watched and monitored as he rose in the ranks of S.H.I.E.L.D. At that point, he’d decided that privacy was the better part of not putting them in the crosshairs.

It was different for Maria. She’d chosen to walk in the line of fire, first as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, then as Nick’s second-in-command, then working with the Avengers. And even after she declined to continue working with the Avengers, rather than take up the cushy position with Stark Industries that Pepper Potts had offered her, Maria had opted to keep her networks going instead of handing them over to someone else.

And through it all, she’d opted to stick with Nick instead of striking out on her own.

She hadn’t left him in the tatters of his intelligence networks. She’d kept him in the loop – kept him in _her_ loop, when he’d been shut out of many others. And no, he wasn’t bitter exactly. Allegiances changed, and both Romanov and Barton had other things on their plate as Avengers – and, in Barton’s case, as a father of three. Phil’s withdrawal had stung, though, and so had the silence of several others in whom Nick had put time and effort and attention.

Maria had stayed.

She’d stayed in world security, and she’d stayed in contact with him. She’d accepted Stark’s censure after he discovered she’d been working with Nick while she was also working for Stark Industries, but she’d still set up the Avengers Initiative to run itself before walking away from Stark and Rogers and Romanoff and the others. She’d operated her side of world security on the quiet, taken over the networks Nick could no longer manage, and set them up so they ran themselves, shared information, and generally could operate without either of them looking over shoulders.

Every now and then he got a call asking for a piece of information or a contact, and he answered it in person. And every now and then she got a call asking for assistance or intel, and she answered it in person.

They weren’t _close_. Not the way most people thought of the term. But if _ushaviat_ meant knowing there was someone who took your word for it, someone who you knew would pick up the slack, someone who you’d call when you needed a voice anchoring you from the other end of the line, even if it wasn’t someone telling you soft and pretty lies - then, yeah, that worked.

Maybe the Dora Milaje would get involved if Maria kept the kid, maybe not. But if she wasn’t going to abort, then Nick would work out a few things when they got back, just so she wouldn’t have to take up so much of the load in the future.

He glanced at B’Suve. “Are the Dora Milaje going to offer advice, or am I going to have to ask for it?”

The other man’s teeth flashed white in his long, dark face. “Might be a bit of both,” B’Suve said. “Although it’ll go down better if you ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Nick finished the last of his bowl and held it loosely in his lap, watching the line of people collecting something to eat slowly growing. Not everyone took food with them, but they exchanged words or looks with others in line, with the servers, with others who came and went past the ‘kitchen’. There was something very...casual and comfortable about it all, not entirely different to the small community culture Nick had grown up in back some sixty-plus years ago.

“Ah, and here is one looking for you,” B’Suve noted as, across the eating space, the Valkyrie stalked in, took one brisk and summing look, and veered towards them. “I judge that expression to bring trouble - magnificent trouble though she might be.”

Nick couldn’t say he disagreed on the description. As he’d told Carol all those years ago, he knew a rogue soldier when he saw one.

“Valkyrie.”

She nodded at B’Suve, but focused her address on Nick. “General.”

“Loki not with you?”

“He is being watched by the Dora Milaje.” She smiled. “Your people are untrusting.”

“Might not be so if he’d given us a reason to trust him.” B’Suve snorted before he reached for Nick’s bowl and took himself and the dishes off to the kitchen area.

“Five years ago, he brought about twenty thousand reasons to distrust him through a wormhole to Earth intending to conquer us, Nick noted. “So you’ll excuse us for being a little on the cynical side.”

“I won’t say he’s changed.”

“Good, because given he was trying to lay hands on the Infinity glove, I doubt there’s much you could say which would convince us.

She studied him for a moment. “When Thanos attacked the _Statesman_ , it was chaos. We’d sent  out a signal to indicate we were refugees. There were no weapons we could deploy, just the lifepods to get people away before we were attacked - and there weren’t enough of those. Some people offered to stay behind and face whatever was coming. Loki offered to remain. He didn’t have to - there were seats enough - but he did.”

“So how’d Thanos get the Space stone then?”

“Took it off him by force. Or near enough to force as makes no difference.” Valkyrie shrugged. “If you talk to Groot, he’ll tell you.”

“If I heard anything other than _I am Groot_ , then I might. So you might have to tell me what Groot told you. A bit like a game of Chinese whispers. Only that’s no longer politically correct, and you don’t even know what I mean by that turn of phrase so...”

The Valkyrie smirked. “I can get the gist of it easily enough. Your languages aren’t difficult.”

“Now you’re just showing off. So?”

“According to Thor, Loki offered Thanos the Space gem as a pledge of allegiance, but intended to trick Thanos into coming close enough for Loki to kill him.”

“Seeing as Thanos is alive and Loki ended up dust along with the rest of us, I’m guessing it didn’t work?”

“No. Thanos stabbed him and walked away with the Space stone - Loki claims he was right on the verge of death when he crumbled to dust. But he knew what Thanos had come for, and rather than try to escape, he stayed behind to use it as a weapon.” She shrugged. “He can be venal and petty and self-involved, but he does have his own courage.”

“Well, I can’t say venal and petty and self-involved is much of a character witness, especially since his last venture to Earth involved getting my people killed.” Nick shrugged. “But I’ll accept that he’s not all terrible. We’re still not trusting him, though.”

“You trust Maria Hill.”

“I’ve had a good dozen years to learn to trust her,” he said.

“You trained her.”

Nick eyed her warily - as a man should be of an immortal warrior woman who, if he was reading her right, was about to take issue with the choices Maria had made during the Cadercka mission. “I gave her somewhere to develop.”

“Was the ruthlessness part of her development?”

“It wasn’t a part of yours?” He stared her down. “Valkyries of the Asgardian empire – I’m pretty sure it wasn’t all wars against the evil Jotun.”

“While we were travelling in the _Statesman_ , Thor was telling us about Midgard. About the people he had met and the things they had done - heroes equal to the legends of Asgard, he made it sound. He did not spare the tales of the women, either, although women warriors have been...less common...since the days of the Valkyrior.”

“And Hela.”

Her mouth twisted a little at the edged. “And Hela.”

“He spoke of Natasha Romanoff, who had fought alongside him against invaders and robots, and of Dr. Foster whom he admired very much.” The gleam in her eye suggested she’d been more than capable of reading into the ‘admiration’ of her lover. “He also mentioned one Commander Hill, who had no powers and was not counted an Avenger, but whom he thought highly of - highly enough to describe as ‘one of Earth’s Valkyries’. And both Dr. Banner and the Hulk were appreciative of her - that she did not fear to act or be angered, and yet when her temper was up, she was contained.”

“Sounds about right,” Nick said. “What of it?”

“They did not mention her ability to abandon them to die.” The Valkyrie tilted her head as though daring him to argue with her.

Maybe a wiser man would have kept his mouth shut, but Nick figured he had a few things to say. He made a judgement call and threw his hat in the ring. “Are you angry that she left her lover to die? Or are you angry that she left yours?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I can be both,” she told him.

“Good. What do you know about spy work?”

She frowned. “The Valkyries did not--”

“Political intelligence?”

“--stoop to such things--”

“Achieving outcomes without getting stuck in the small details?”

She glared. “What is your point?”

“Maybe the Valkyries didn’t have to stoop to such things because Odin had his own spy network - or just Heimdall. When you need asses kicked, you send in the troops. But sometimes you need someone who sees the long and winding road.”

Not everyone could.

Nick had trained agents and spies, infiltrators and saboteurs, analysts and strategists - people who had to think two, three, four steps ahead, because the job needed doing and sometimes it needed a twisted mind to navigate a complicated maze. He’d taught them to do what was necessary as bloodlessly as was possible for people who were flesh and emotion. It didn’t mean spending lives wastefully or recklessly, just that making the cost calculation might mean having to choose what price needed to be paid for the outcome required.

If that sounded soulless, well, shorn of feeling and connection, it was. And that was the other side of the coin: to pick people who could make those decisions and still care. It was possible - a fine and difficult and thankless line to walk in a society that demanded complete heroism or else was happy to consign you to the petty evil of a bureaucrat.

That was something that Peggy Carter herself had taught Nick.

_Show a polite face to the world, by all means, but never forget that sometimes you must shoot for the heart._

Of course, it was easier for most people to lionize a woman like Peggy and demonize a man like Nick without seeing they were doing the same thing. Bigotry was easy - seeing the complexity of the decision, making it anyway, and living with the consequences? That was hard.

“And you think her abandonment was justified?”

“I think she had good reasons for it.” Nick scratched an itch along his neck. “Don’t know if I’ll agree with those reasons, but even if I don’t, Maria did what she thought was necessary and achieved the mission. We have the glove - even if we don’t have all the stones. We have time to work out what to do next - whether we’re gonna try again without the missing stone, or if we’ve just got a new Pokemon to collect. And,” he added, “don’t write the Avengers off just yet. They had at least one powerhouse among them.”

Wilson had mentioned Carol being there - ‘the mohawked superlady’ had been his description which, if amusing, wasn’t entirely wrong.

Nick had felt a moment’s relief and pleasure to know that she hadn’t forgotten Earth - hadn’t forgotten _him_ \- before he’d had the reflection that if a year had passed, then all Carol’s powers hadn’t been able to reverse what Thanos had done.

It was looking more and more like the only thing which could do that now was getting all the Infinity stones together.

Which meant they were hunting the last stone.

“You know some about infinity stones. You would have heard bits and pieces around the place - a canny soldier keeps her ears open and her eyes peeled. What do you know about the Soul stone?”

The Valkyrie watched him. “Not much. No more than anyone. It’s one of six, it’s powerful - maybe more powerful than the rest.”

“That’s pretty powerful, considering Reality is capable of remaking the universe,” Nick considered. “Why ‘Soul’?”

“Why not? All peoples and cultures have a way of thinking about the self - about the ability to self-determine and what makes a person different from, say, beasts. It’s a common enough thread through the thinking, reasoning creatures of the galaxy.” She shrugged. “Maybe ‘soul’ is just the shorthand to describe the power of the individual, as compared to the various forms of energy or time?”

“Except if you’re wielding the Soul stone, you probably got a lot more power than just an individual.”

She shrugged. “I only remember little bits and pieces here and there. Hardly anything worth repeating.”

“Did you ever hear anything about how Thanos got hold of it in the first place? Who he took it from?”

“Not a thing.” Dark eyes studied him. “But you don’t ‘take’ the Soul stone . That’s one thing that all the legends surrounding it said - of all the gems, Soul alone bequeathed itself on the user.”

“And if you just took it?”

“You don’t ‘just take’ an infinity stone.”

“Barnes did. Six of them.”

“And only came back with five.” Valkyrie surveyed the entryway to the section where people were starting to come in. “You can ask _him_ what happens when you just take an Infinity stone that doesn’t want to be taken...”

That would require approaching Barnes, which Nick was in no hurry to do. He had nothing against the man - just a bunch of nubbled pink scars on his belly, and a chesty cough when the north wind blew down his neck. Small potatoes compared with the grave - shallow or otherwise - that had awaited the rest of the men and women Barnes had killed while under HYDRA’s control.

“I think I’ll pass,” Nick muttered.

Sure, he knew it wasn’t Barnes’ fault. Didn’t mean Nick particularly liked it, or particularly wanted to small talk with the guy.

There was movement at the entry to the mess hall, a bright cluster of scarlet uniforms and the bronze-black skin of the Dora Milaje around Maria, Doc Foster, and Wanda Maximoff. The three white women looked washed out against the brassy undertones of the Wakandan women - or maybe that was just Maria and the pregnancy. There was a moment of consultation between them and Najira, and then Maria and Najira headed for where Nick was sitting, while the Doc and Maximoff continued on to the food line.

Maria didn’t look happy - there was a distinctly grim look to her mouth as she came over.

“Something up?” Nick asked, casually.

“No, I’m fine.”

Nick forbore to point out that she’d previously fainted due to stress and her pregnancy. Instead, he noted, “There’s food if you’re hungry.”

“Jane and Wanda are getting it.” She nodded at the Valkyrie. “No Loki?”

“Why does everyone assume that I have him to hand?”

Najira laughed. “Because you are both of Asgard, and like spends time with like? It is the way of all people, be they of Asgard or Midgard.”

“It seems Thor spent quite a bit of time with you,” Valkyrie said to Maria. “He had plenty to say of you.”

“Oh.” Maria blinked, a little surprised. “Really?”

“Yes.” The Valkyrie regarded Maria with a tilted head and a lightly mocking expression. “I don’t think he knew at the time that you’d leave him to die in battle.”

Nick saw the walls go up, a cool and subtle withdrawal on Maria’s part, even before her eyes narrowed. “He should have; it’s not the first time I’ve left an Avenger to die.”

“Captain Rogers?” Dark eyes studied her. “Is it true that he’s the father of your child?”

“Do you think it would have changed the call I made?” Maria asked flatly.

This time, the study went for a few seconds, then the Valkyrie shrugged. “Loki says you tried to get in his way the first time he attacked Earth.”

“He’d just subverted one of my colleagues and was stealing the Tesseract.”

“Yes, but he said you shot at him and your colleague, chasing them down in a car long after a reasonable person would have stopped..”

Maria’s eyes glittered. “Clint Barton knows what I’m capable of, as much as Steve Rogers does. I have no doubt that Thor was well aware of what I could do shortly after I went to work for the Avengers; it’s only everyone else who’s constantly surprised. I wonder why that is?”

The Valkyrie smiled. “I’m just trying to come to a better understanding of you.”

“How’s it going?”

Valkyrie shrugged. “They respect you, so there’s obviously something there. But you’re more than a little ruthless, too.”

“And you didn’t know _any_ Valkyries like that?”

“Yes,” she smiled, thin-lipped. “Didn’t mean I liked them.”

And so saying, she strode off, taking a side-turn through another ‘alley’ of rubble to avoid going near Jane and Wanda as they came with mugs of soup herded between Wanda’s hands.

“I hate interrogations,” Maria remarked, easing herself down on a ‘seat’.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Nick replied. “But there’s a couple of people around here aren’t too happy about the mission.”

“Around here?” She arched a brow at him. “Or _here_?”

He regarded her. “You brought back the glove. That was the mission, wasn’t it?”

“I left the Avengers to die. Including your Captain Marvel. Who was very impressive.”

Nick snorted. “Impressive is one way to put it. Believe it or not, Carol’s been looking after herself...well, probably longer than you’ve been alive. And you’ve never seen her completely destroy a warship before threatening three others commanded by a particularly vicious warlord. She’s more than capable of dealing with mere numbers and a couple of Q-ships. If the Avengers are dead, I’ll eat this eyepatch.”

It was her turn to snort in amusement. “What happened while I was out?”

Nick looked at Najira, surprised that the other women hadn’t brought her up to speed.

“We have developed some thoughts on why the White Wolf could not use certain stones - and why Thanos did not fight as thoroughly as we expected.” Najira shrugged. “In our excitement, it may be that we spoke more of our theories and less on what has happened while the commander has been resting.”

“There are a few people mad at you as you can see. Quill. The Valkyrie. Barnes...”

“Nothing unexpected.”

“You’ll be glad to hear that Barnes gave up the glove. Seems being an evil overlord isn’t his thing. And the Wakandans did that thing where they psychologically pressured him into it without actually looking like they were psychologically pressuring him into it.”

“General…”

“Don’t tell me that your people haven’t studied the ‘White Wolf’ in the two years you’ve had him. You’re not stupid and if your Princess is trusting, the Dora Milaje aren’t. I’m sure that whatever the Hatut Zeraze had on Barnes as the Winter Soldier formed the base of the psychological profile on Barnes as the White Wolf – what might move him, what might guide him, what might stop him if he took it into his head to pay back the universe for the hand it dealt him.” Najira looked like she didn’t know whether to deny it or retain deniability. Nick smirked. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

“So if Barnes doesn’t have the glove now,” Maria asked, glancing around as Maximoff and Doc Foster came up with mugs of soup, “where is it?”

Rather than carrying the mugs, Maximoff was floating them in the air before her, steady as though they were resting on an invisible tray.

“I collected it in a spell, and Strange put it into a portal,” Maximoff said. “We agreed that was the safest option. Watch out.”

Mugs of soup floated down, and people grabbed them automatically. Nick took the one in front of him in spite of having already eaten. He didn’t want a mug of soup dumped in his lap, so he just held it. Someone would take it, sooner or later.

“So,” he said to Doc Foster and Najira, “you’ve got a theory that you want to run past us?”

“It is the Scarlet Witch’s theory,” said Najira, looking at Maximoff, “She was the one had the thought.”

Maximoff was swirling her soup around her mug in slow, measured movements to cool it down – or maybe just something to occupy her mind. “Hela said something to Thanos during the fight: _Y_ _ou didn’t look very deeply into the stones, did you? Just as we bound ourselves to stone, stone would bind itself to us, too – when given a reason_.”

“How can stone have a reason?”

The Doc gave a tiny shrug. “How could Hela and Thanos tie their power and life-force to planets? More things on heaven and on earth and so on.” She waved a hand. “The interesting part is that Wanda feels the Mind stone – and has since Wakanda.”

“Since Wakanda?” Maria frowned at Maximoff. “You’ve felt it here in the shadow realm?”

“Even before that.” The young woman’s smile was thin and pained and she stared at her mug. “Vision asked me to destroy him – to destroy the Mind stone so that Thanos would not get hold of it. But Thanos undid his destruction with a spell to reverse time, and when he did…” Her eyes flicked up, and a scarlet and gold flame danced in them for a moment. “I felt it then. Like something had been torn out of me and handed to someone else while I could still feel it. And again, when we were on Thanos’ planet and facing him and the glove, the Mind stone… _called_ to me.”

Her emphasis on the word _called_ suggested something a little more than sensing the stone’s presence.

“I was considering the confrontation with Thanos,” said Najira. “Why did he not simply destroy the Avengers in confrontation, the way the White Wolf did once he attained the glove?”

“Because...” Nick trailed off. He hadn’t questioned Thanos’ use of the glove, or, rather, the fact that he hadn’t.

“According to the reports he could open a door to other realms, and deceived the team with some illusions - he called the Q-ships and their armies to him - but he did not use Time to turn us to dust, nor Power to destroy us. He did not do what the Mantis and Drax say he did to them when they went to get the Reality stone.”

“He was crippled?”

“He wasn’t in control of the glove!” Doc Foster said excitedly.

“He wasn’t in control of the _stones_ ,” Najira emphasised. “The Scarlet Witch feels the Mind stone – it calls to her. Jane and Star-Lord both feel the Reality stone.”

“But it possessed you.” Maria’s mug sat forgotten in her hands. “You didn’t kill anyone to get it.”

“Peter nearly did,” Jane said. “The last time he saw the Reality stone was when Thanos took his daughter Gamora away. And that was _after_ she’d begged Quill to kill her so Thanos wouldn’t find out where the last stone was.”

“I thought Thanos killed Gamora.”

“He did, on Vormir. But according to the Mantis, Gamora asked Quill to kill her – begged him to kill her rather than have Thanos extract the location of the Soul stone from her.”

“And he failed,” Najira said. “A harsh request to make of a lover. It is no wonder he could not do it.”

Both Maria and Maximoff tensed at that.

Najira paused in the act of lifting her mug to her mouth. “I didn’t not mean insult—”

“But you’re right in that a willingness to kill one’s lover is not generally considered a positive character trait.” Maria made the observation dispassionately, as though it was an academica matter.

“I’d say that depends on why you’re killing them,” Nick said, mimicking her detachment.

“For the greater good, perhaps?” Wanda’s voice was sharp. “We have done what needed doing in the moment, when there were no other choices available to us!”

Maria was less emotive about it. “Sometimes there are no good choices. And no opportunity to make better ones.” She looked at Najira who didn’t flinch, but looked like she wanted to. “It is a hard call, and – as you said – it’s not surprising that Quill couldn’t do it.”

Nick made a mental note to talk to Maria about this later. Because by his count, she’d sacrificed Rogers not once, but twice – once on Thanos’ planet, and previously in DC. In S.H.I.E.L.D, he would have had her go in for counselling services. Most likely, she’d have just sat there and listened to the counsellor talk – those who came from the military tended to be reluctant to talk it out – but it would have given her reflection time. Instead, she’d gone straight to Stark Industries. It was possible that Pepper Potts had required a full psych eval of Maria before she went in, but Nick kind of doubted it. And even if they had, would a civilian psych with no security clearance to speak of be capable of plumbing the depths of a paramilitary mindset? Not likely.

And no, he wasn’t exactly her commander anymore, but she was still his responsibility.

Maybe the Wakandans were onto something with their concept of _ushaviat_. Nick would probably have to talk to the Dora Milaje about that at some point – as well as maybe a few things about pregnancy if Maria decided to keep the child. Maria could look after herself, that didn’t mean she would. He knew her far too well for his own peace of mind.

“You know I don’t blame you for recalling us,” Doc Foster was saying. “But using my father as the catalyst was...harsh.”

“That was my decision,” Maximoff said, not a hint of apology in her voice. “I picked the person most likely to sway you in that moment – as I did for Quill.”

“And Quill saw his mother and Gamora.”

Maximoff shrugged. “It was not pleasant, but it was necessary.”

The Doc sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you guys. I can see the cost-benefit balance, it’s just the way you go about it is so...cold.”

Maria’s lips pressed together. “That’s a part of the training.”

“For S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“Or the military.”

Maximoff snorted. “Growing up in a war zone does not often leave room for overthinking decisions.”

“Do they teach that in Wakanda?” The Doc looked to Najira. “Among the Dora Milaje?”

“Not in the Dora Milaje as such. Among the Hatut Zeraze? Yes. But those decisions affect the security of Wakanda, which we are taught to place above all other things...”

“Maybe putting the universe above a lover is just a bigger version of ‘Wakanda Forever’,” Nick suggested when she trailed off.

Najira frowned. “That seems wrong...but I am not Hatut Zeraze.”

Maximoff shifted in her seat and her eyes lifted to beyond the circle.

Nick followed her gaze. “We have incoming.”

Maria shot him a look, but didn’t turn to look at Barnes and Wilson as they made their way over. Barnes was in the lead, but it didn’t look like Wilson was restraining him. Presumably that meant nobody would die.

There were no greetings. Barnes strode up and simply said, “I don’t appreciate being hauled around at someone else’s whim. I did that as the Winter Soldier for HYDRA and I’m not eager to repeat the experience.”

“You did it as a Lieutenant in the US Army,” was Maria’s answer. “The big brass sayeth and the little brass obeyeth? Or wasn’t that the case in the war?”

“You’re not in my chain of command.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I was a commander in the organisation that turned out to have harboured HYDRA since the war, and I’ve been military ever since I got out of school, so I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

“Maybe I thought Steve would have better taste than that.”

Doc Foster made a disbelieving noise, but Maria smiled grimly. “I thought Steve had better taste than that, too. He disagreed.”

“ _Is_ it his?”

Her lips tightened, a fractional shutdown. Nick almost expected her to say it was none of Barnes’ business, but after a moment, she admitted, “Yes.”

“Were you going to tell him?”

“If it came up.” Maria retorted. “Surprisingly, in the midst of saving the world, it hasn’t.”

“When we get back...”

The sound Maria made was almost like a laugh. “When we get back there’ll be no shortage of people to tell Captain America that he knocked his ex-girlfriend up – between you, Sam, Parker, not to mention half the Wakandan army, I’m fairly sure he’ll find out about it. Assuming what’s in me survives that long!”

Suspicion flared in Barnes’ eyes. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“Because we are in the middle of a stressful situation,” suggested Najira.

“Which you aren’t helping,” added Doc Foster.

Nick felt like he should step in. Barnes was looking a bit beleaguered, and Wilson seemed taken aback – both by Barnes’ insinuations and by the force of the women’s defence of Maria.

He coughed. “There’s a good reason these things aren’t usually announced until the end of the first trimester.” When Barnes looked at him, Nick shrugged. “You don’t head up an organisation of 45% women without learning a few things about pregnancy, Barnes. Even if the organisation was infiltrated by HYDRA.”

Barnes deflated a little. “I didn’t mean... Shit.” He closed his eyes, then opened them to look at Maria. “I’m sorry for what I implied. For all of it. Do you see why I’m angry, though?”

“Yes. Do _you_ see why I pulled us out?”

“We could have found a way.”

“We didn’t. Or,” Maria continued inexorably, “we did and we didn’t like the cost.”

“According to Strange and his visions?”

Wanda laid her hands flat on the table. “Would you like to see the possibilities yourself?”

“Sure,” said Barnes, almost brashly. “Show me—”

He choked as scarlet flame danced in his eyes, matching the glow of Wanda’s fingertips. It burned for a few long seconds, then died. He took a step back, reeling.

Wilson grabbed his shoulder. “Breathe,” he ordered, before looking at Wanda. “Did you have to?”

“He asked to know. We did not find another way out of there that did not involve sacrificing something we could not afford to lose,” she said, her words crisp and precise and unrepentant.

Nick exhaled and met Maria’s gaze, eyebrows raised. Maximoff was a wild card, and he surely hoped that Maria knew what she was doing in her dealings with her. Maria shrugged slightly, as though she’d learned she couldn’t turn the tide, only channel the currents.

“Sit him down, Sam,” Maria suggested after a moment. “Get him something to eat.”

“I don’t need—I just need a minute.” Barnes closed his eyes, then opened them sharply. “ _That’s_ what you saw?”

“Yes,” Maximoff answered.

“And you think I would _ever_ hurt Steve”

“You have before.” Maria looked at Barnes with the cool blue eyes of the ‘Hill Pill’ of S.H.I.E.L.D. “Желание, pжавый, семнадцать...”

Barnes jerked at the first word, and took a threatening step towards her. Nick half-rose from his seat, and Wilson grabbed for his shoulder, but Maria stayed seated. A split-second later he’d caught himself and drawn back. For a moment he looked shocked, before it transmuted to anger. “That was different,” he rasped, a coiled spring, ready to unload. Nick caught the eye of several of the Wakandans across the mess hall and jerked his head, asking for backup.

“Was it?” Maria looked pointedly at his hands, which had closed into fists. “Do we ever know what we’re capable of doing until it needs to be done?”

“I wouldn’t kill _Steve_.”

“And if I’d asked you if you’d ever lift a hand against a pregnant woman before the war, you’d have emphatically told me ‘no’,” Maria said. “Yet here we are.”

“Maria—” Wilson began.

“No, she’s right. “ Barnes exhaled harshly. “Not that I’d use my fists against her, just that...when I signed up for the war, I didn’t know what lay in my future. I couldn’t have imagined being the Winter Soldier or the White Wolf. I didn’t have the capacity to imagine it. And I’m not what she and Maximoff saw in the vision – not today. But I wore the glove for maybe twenty minutes, and I remember what it felt like to have power capable of doing just about anything. So I want to say that there is no version of me that would kill Steve, but I can’t, because I don’t know the man I’d have been wielding the Infinity glove.” He looked at Maria, almost bitterly. “Is that the point that you wanted to hear?”

“Yes.” And now Maria softened. “It wasn’t a decision I made lightly, Barnes.”

“I sure hope not considering you condemned Steve to death.”

Her mouth tightened at the corners. “It wouldn’t be the first time. And if we get the Soul stone back and get the Infinity glove working, then none of this will have happened, and he’ll be alive.”

“You’d better be right about this.” And with that he headed for the stove and the soup and the cluster of Wakandans watching them, with a smaller group paused on their way towards them, unsure of whether or not to intervene.

“If I’m wrong about it,” Maria murmured as he went, “then we all lose.”

Wilson shook his head and looked at Maria. “You okay?”

“I’m pregnant, Sam, not suddenly made of glass.”

“Hey, all I’m doing is checking in on you. Better get used to it.” The tone was light, and Maria seemed to relax a little at his words.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Hey, you can thank me by being right!” And with a wry look, he followed after Barnes, pausing to speak with the Wakandan man who was heading over to check on them.

Maria exhaled and scraped back loose ends of hair. “Well, that was fun.”

“And you haven’t even had to deal with Quill yet,” said Doc Foster lightly.

“I’m sure that’ll come later.”

“General Fury?” The plainsman smiled briefly at the ladies, then turned to Nick. “Are all things well here?”

“They’re all well,” Nick answered. “It was just a moment’s alarm and I overreacted.”

“Ah. I should also be worried were I facing the White Wolf’s temper,” said the man wisely, glancing back to see Barnes standing with the other Wakandans, apparently conversing easily with them, while Wilson accepted a mug of soup. “But he has spoke his anger and it is done, now. You are well, Commander?”

“As you see, M’Radi.”

“Then that is just as well.” He quirked a smile. “If you are done with your mugs, I will take them back. More people will come for food – our bodies do not, perhaps, need it, but the habit persists.”

He collected the mugs, nodded at Nick and at Najira, and walked back.

“Not a sight I’m used to seeing,” Doc Foster observed with a grin. “Big, well-muscled warrior-types doing the dishes.”

“Thor never did?”

“Oh, he learned how to stack the dishwasher. But you wouldn’t want him anywhere near the glassware.” The Doc eyed Maria. “Didn’t you ever have that problem?”

“No.” The answer wasn’t quite flat, but it didn’t invite any further discussion either.

Doc Foster winced. Nick figured it was high time to change the subject. “So,” he said, not bothering to be subtle about it. “We never did get to your theory about the Infinity stones. We got as far as Quill, and no farther. Run the rest of it by us.”

“Let’s do it somewhere else,” Maria suggested. “Because I’d like to be out of here before Quill comes by and goes in for round two, thanks.”

Somewhere else turned out to be one of the alcoves that the Doc and Najira had been using for their theories this morning. The boardroom whiteboard looked distinctly out of place in the reddish-tinted light of Titan’s sun, as did the panoply of pens that rested on the ledge beneath it.

“So you can do all this and a side of beef as well,” Nick quipped.

“The side of beef was more difficult,” the Doc admitted with a wry grin. “I guess I’m no cook, so I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like or look like – I kind of had to reach blind for it.”

“Didn’t seem so bad.” There were notations across the whiteboard, and he studied them with narrowed eyes. “And so this is the result of having held the Aether for a couple of days?”

“That is our best hypothesis,” Najira said. “So long as we are in this ‘shadow realm’, Doctor Foster is able to create anything she sets her mind to.”

“I’ve been careful not to set my mind to anything, but it’s like not thinking of an elephant.”

The whiteboard had been divided into six sections, and notations filled them all. Not every section had the same notations – some were all filled up, while one only had one word in it, with a questionmark beside it.

“Mind,” he read, “Wanda Maximoff feels since Vision’s death, her power sources from. Reality, Quill and other Guardians failed to kill Gamora. Space, Tesseract, stolen from Asgard, Loki gave to Thanos. Time, Eye of Agamotto, given by Stephen Strange. Power, taken from Xandarian Empire, given to Empire by Quill and the Guardians, incl. Gamora... Soul, Vormir.”

Nick frowned. Something about the board was teasing at his mind. Something—

“Strange gave up Time in exchange for Tony’s life,” Maria said suddenly. “Peter mentioned it when he first brought us here.”

Then he remembered his conversation with the Valkyrie. “Loki didn’t just give up the Tesseract, he tried to use it as bait for Thanos – stuck a knife into Thanos for all the good it apparently did.”

Maximoff started. “On the mission, Thanos said to Loki, _You didn’t learn the first time_ – that must have been when he tried to kill Thanos.”

“Well, according to the Valkyrie, he did it because Thanos was torturing Thor, and Loki was trying to get in close to him.”

“And ended up handing the Tesseract over on a platter,” Maria concluded. “So how did Thor get out of there?”

“Heimdall did something.” Whatever it was that guardians of Asgardian portals did to get their princes – or kings, really – out of tight situations. It probably left burn marks on the floor, the way it seemed to do everywhere else. Nick’s eye drifted down and across. “This Xandarian Empire – they were the same lot who shot at you when you vanished this morning?”

“Yes. The Guardians took the Power stone off some guy called Ronan the Accuser and then destroyed him with it.”

Nick blinked. He’d heard that name before. “Ronan the Accuser? The Kree warlord?”

Maria looked back at him. “You’re asking _me_?”

“You mentioned him.”

“That was what Groot said. Of course, he also said that there was an explosion during that confrontation and he somehow protected the other Guardians by dying, so Rocket planted a twig of him in some soil and he grew. And don’t ask me how, because I’m just telling you what Mantis translated. She didn’t explain Groot biology and I wasn’t going to ask.”

Nick didn’t figure it was that likely there were two guys known as ‘Ronan the Accuser’ out there in the galaxy, one of whom had tried to get his hands on an infinity stone after losing the opportunity to get his hands on the Tesseract. But that was a minor point of history, not relevant to the now.

What was relevant was that he was starting to see the pattern.

“Loki sacrifices the Tesseract to have a chance at killing Thanos. Groot dies so Quill and his buddies can pick up the Power stone. Maximoff kills Vision so Thanos doesn’t get his hands on the Mind stone—at his request,” he added when Maximoff opened her mouth. “Gamora asks for Quill to kill her but he can’t, so Thanos gets the Reality stone. And Strange gives up the Time stone in exchange for Stark... So the question is what did Thanos give up to get the Soul stone?”

“Gamora,” said Najira. “He went to Vormir with her and returned without her but with the Soul stone in hand.”

“Not just Gamora,” Maria said quietly, “but a daughter.”

And she looked at him.

Nick’s thoughts stuttered to a halt. Cold wrapped itself around his bones, a sting as sharp as the lingering ache of his scars.

“We don’t know that.”

“But we can guess. It’s not just about a sacrifice, it’s about a sacrifice of something that matters. To a warlord like Thanos, the ones he spared – the children he raised to be his generals – were his proteges. They mattered. And Gamora was the best of them. She mattered.”

“You’re presuming a lot,” Nick told her harshly.

“Maybe. Am I wrong?”

“What if I think Romanov is better?”

“Then you’d be right.” She gave a half-laugh. “But you didn’t trust Romanov with your death. You didn’t bring her in on the plans for Insight. You didn’t tell her about the old helicarrier when Ultron was trying to destroy the world, and you didn’t call for her help in Hong Kong.”

And that was why she wasn’t wrong.

It was why she mattered.

“Commander,” Najira protested, “you cannot ask the General to—”

“Why not?” Maria didn’t look away from Nick. “He asked it of us, first, as agents of S.H.I.E.L.D – or Avengers. Protect and defend Earth from any and all threats to its autonomy and independence, no matter the cost. That’s the brief, isn’t it, _sir_?”

How long had it been since she’d addressed him as ‘sir’? Years, now. Nick exhaled. “It is.”

And over the years, the cost had been high.

He’d pushed to build up S.H.I.E.L.D with an eye to gathering up the things that weren’t ‘normal’ as most people understood it. He’d looked at Erskine’s files and the SSR’s records, and set up searches for the missing Captain America. He’d kept an eye on Thaddeus Ross and the Army’s attempt to dabble in biotech. He’d set a team to work on the Tesseract to unlock its secrets. He’d hired agents with an eye to developing those who were flexible enough to accept the weird and also intelligent enough to adjust to the circumstances. He’d made bargains with the US government, with the UN, with the World Security Council just to keep things spinning, had dealt with wild cards like Stark and unknowns like Banner and forces of nature like Rogers. He’d laid out missions and objectives and projects, and in doing so, he’d sent innumerable agents to their deaths in the name of ‘world security’.

What was the life of one more agent in order to save the universe?

Except that Maria wasn’t just one more agent; she was the last one standing.

And she was _Maria_ ; it mattered.

“Whatever the cost,” she reminded him quietly. “If this is what it costs to get the Soul stone and get everything back, then I’ll pay it.”

“And your child?”

It flickered in her eyes, a momentary grief, a momentary guilt, a momentary loss, but she didn’t flinch. “I shot the helicarriers down with good people on board because the fate of the world hung on it. I left the Avengers to die on Cadercka because the fate of the universe hung on it. I like to think that any child I raised would understand why I’m doing this.”

“And do you think Rogers will?”

“Even if he had a say in it anymore; he already knows what I am – or he should. I’ve sacrificed him for the good of the world before – today makes twice. That’s what I do.”

And it was what she did because it was what he’d made her to be. Not an Avenger, not a hero, just someone standing between humanity and the things they didn’t know about, making choices on which rested the lives of millions – in this case billions.

All in exchange for a life – or, in this case, two.

But he had to try to save the world, even if it cost her life. Just as she had to try to save the world, even if it cost her child’s life.

That was who they were.

He reached out, gripped her shoulder, saw the relief reflected in her eyes as she recognized his agreement.

“That’s what _we_ do,” he said.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Breaking Through_ by Rick Clark

Quill argued the point at first.

“No,” he said flatly when Doc Foster put it to him, “I’m not doing it.”

Doc Foster had brought Quill down to the alcove to discuss going to Vormir, since he had not only the ability to take them back to Reality but also the spaceship. Big Blue and Tattooed and the Antenna lady had gone to the mess hall with some of the Wakandans, but the teenaged tree had trailed along behind Quill, giving everyone the hairy eyeball of an adolescent with attitude, causing Nick to wonder if a tree could be Goth.

“We think we’ve found a way to get the Soul stone,” Maria said. “But to do so, we need to go back to reality and get to Vormir.”

“So you can kill someone else?” Quill demanded. “Mind-blind us all over again so you can leave a few more people behind to die? Because that was really uncool.”

Maria’s gaze hardened. “It’s a good thing I’ve never been cool, then. I have nothing to lose.”

“Vormir is where Gamora died. It’s the last place in the universe that I’d go!”

“Not even to find out what happened to her? Not even to see if she’s still there?”

“Why would she still be there?”

“Do you _know_ that Thanos killed her?”

“I—” Quill stared at them wildly. “You’re saying she could be alive?”

“I’m saying that two people went to a planet and one came back, but that doesn’t mean the other is dead. Unless Thanos said she was?”

“ _I am Groot_!”

“No,” he said to Groot, flatly, “She’d have— You don’t understand. Gamora’s tough and clever. She’d have escaped. Or fought. Or something. She’s _Gamora_. And Nebula said that... No. You’re just saying this to get me to take you somewhere that I don’t want to go!”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t that what Gamora wanted?” Nick asked. “For someone to stop Thanos?”

“Hey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, _bud_ , but it’s a bit late to stop him now.”

“Then we go back and stop him before he can do it. One of the stones is Time, right? Another is Reality. Between those two, you could you make anything of the world that you wanted.”

“ _I am Groot_!”

Quill turned and glared at the adolescent tree. “She would not!”

“ _I am Groot_.”

“Hey, do you see anyone asking for your opinion?”

“ _I am Groot_.” Groot shrugged and put its hands on its hips like it couldn’t believe it even had to say this. “ _I am Groot_!”

“Easy for you to say...” Quill scowled. “You’re not even upset that we left Rocket behind!”

The tree hesitated, looked at Maria, looked at Wanda, and looked at Maria again. “ _I am Groot_.”

“We’re trying to fix it,” Maria said simply. “But to do that, we need the Soul stone, and the only thing we’re sure is that Thanos found it at Vormir. So we need to go to Vormir – just a few of us – to scout it out.”

Doc Foster opened her mouth to protest, but Nick caught her eye and shook his head, ever so slightly. Telling Quill the full truth right now wouldn’t help, and even letting Groot know what they were doing was a risk.

Hell, he was trying not to think of what they were going to Vormir to do.

_I’ve sacrificed him for the good of the world. Today makes twice. That’s what I do._

Nick had lived with deaths on his conscience all his life. He’d killed men and women before in cold blood – Cold War agents, S.H.I.E.L.D agents who’d betrayed the organisation or sold out their fellow agents, or people who stood in the way of his objectives. Those deaths he could justify. He’d seen people die in situations he couldn’t prevent. Watched people die in situations he could have prevented if he’d only done something different. Sent agents out on missions where they were likely to die – and they had. And all because Earth had needed something to stand between it and whatever threats were out there, and S.H.I.E.L.D was what they’d had until Nick had put together the Avengers.

This was no different.

It shouldn’t have been.

But for the last four years, Maria had been his backstop, and he’d been hers. Avengers came and Avengers went, but when he had a mission of trust, he called Maria. They’d worked together without the structure of S.H.I.E.L.D, thinking it wouldn’t change anything. But it had. He’d let her get too close, and she’d needed him, too, as none of the others had.

Monica had once joked that he was the closest thing to a dad that she’d ever had. But her Mom had been the rock she’d reached for in an emergency and that was the way it should be. As fond as Monica was of her ‘Uncle Fury’, he wasn’t a significant part of her life – either personally or professionally.

Maria was.

_Your language has no word for it…you compartmentalize instead of integrating, segregate instead of combining._

_A cultural blind spot?_

_Maybe a human one._

Quill and Groot were still arguing, although whatever Groot was saying seemed to be getting through. Quill was looking increasingly grumpy.

“All right,” said Quill. “We’ll go to Vormir and look around. But if we don’t find anything, then we’re coming straight back.” He turned to Groot. “And no, you’re not coming on this one. You’re staying here.”

The crossed arms and sullen look was definitely a sulk.

Najira declined to go with them. “Someone should stay behind to tell them.” She held up a hand as Maria began to protest. “I will wait until you are gone.”

“Are you going to get in trouble for this?”

“Feel free to use my rank if you think that’ll help,” Nick added grimly. “Not that I expect it will for long.” Not once they realized what he’d done.

Maximoff invited herself. “In case backup is necessary.”

Nick didn’t ask exactly what backup she thought would be necessary. Would she sacrifice Maria if Nick didn’t, or found he couldn’t? On the other hand, everyone else on the mission was plain old human, and although Quill had a technology advantage, he would be flying the ship.

As the ramp closed up behind them, Nick looked over at Maria. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” She looked pale, but seemed resolute as Quill started up the engines. Only her hands, carefully folded over each other after she’d buckled in, betrayed her tension.

Nick made himself look out the cockpit canopy. It wasn’t going to be his first trip in a spaceship, although the previous one had really been a modified jet fighter, so...perhaps it was? He’d always figured if he got into a spaceship, he’d be more excited. It had been a long time since he’d seen Maria this uncertain. Then again, it had been a long time since he’d seen her in the field.

“Okay,” said Quill, “I’m not even going to try for atmosphere, because there’s no point. Once we’re airborne, Jane will shift us over to Vormir and then...we’ll scout, and think about going through. And don’t even think about mind-blinding me,” he said grimly to Maximoff. “Because using Gamora and my mom was low.”

Nick looked at Maria, brows arched, as Maximoff said, “I did not specify who you would see – only that it would be someone you trusted.”

“Yeah, well, it was shitty, okay? Don’t do it again. And we’ve been noticed.”

“That’s not unexpected,” Maria murmured.

“Well, they don’t seem to happy about it.” And because Quill was Quill, he started waving at the people staring at them, their expressions shading from startled to bewildered to alarmed. “There was seriously no way you could have told the others what you were planning to do?”

“Not without a fight,” Maria said flatly. “And I don’t have the energy for another round.”

In the co-pilot’s seat, Doc Foster turned to look back at Maria. “You _are_ pregnant, you know.”

“Oh, I know. And if that’s going to be the only thing that anyone says to me for the next eight months—” Maria stopped.

Nick’s stomach churned. There would be no ‘next eight months’ for her and her child. Not afterwards—

_A sacrifice that matters._

_We’re not close like that,_ he’d told B’Suve, and it had been true in a way, and also untrue.

“Take us out to Vormir,” Maria told the Doc in firm tone.

Doc Foster looked like she wanted to say something, but a frustrated look twitched across her face and she turned back, setting her shulders.

Out front, the reddish skies of sunset Titan gave way to a dark and atmospheric landscape. At first glance, the land below looked like sand-dunes – the wind-blown ripples of a desert, but watery pools gleamed at regular intervals as far as the eye could see, reflecting the billowing clouds in the sky and occasionally the burning moon that hung in the sky overhead, backlit by an unending flame.

“It was a dark and stormy night,” Nick muttered.

“More like cold and snowy,” said Doc Foster, peering out the side window.

“Anything on the radar?”

Quill glanced at Maria over his shoulder. “Give it a moment...” They soared across the sands, heading towards the only thing that interrupted the horizon. “Okay, terragraphing shows no sign of any anomal— Wait...”

He paused, then steered the _Milano_ right, veering around towards a far-distant peak.

Nick glimpsed more dunes and more pools, a long, low ridge of cracked stone, that was soon swallowed by the dark sands, and the slowly growing shape of the mountain that jutted up into the sky at an oblique angle, like a hand half-lifted in supplication to the half-burned moon.

“That’s...” Jane paused. “Is there something...wrong with that mountain?”

The tip of the peak shimmered and blurred, almost like a mirage – if a mirage melted into a puff of dust and blew away before coalescing back together again. “Definitely not your usual mountain.”

“Why can’t we see it properly?” Quill tapped something on his dashboard, and an image formed – but the image also melted and blurred, blew off into dust, and shimmered back into solidarity before blurring again. “It shouldn’t be doing that...”

A pale pink glow lit up the back of the cockpit. Delicate wisps of power trailed from Maximoff’s fingers, forming a glimmering mist over her hands. It in, something shifted, then solidifed, showing the jutting peak of a mountain, flattened into a kind of promontory from which two giant pylons thrust upwards into the sky as a ghostly figure shimmered and wafted between them. The rough promontory had a line chipped into it, between the two pylons to the edge of the cliff, where it widened to a broken half-circle that fell off into a deep cleft.

Nick felt a cold dread grip his throat. Something about that place wrenched at him in a way that he’d rarely felt – and every time he’d felt it, he’d known to step the hell away. “What is that?”

“Something we can’t see from here,” Maximoff said. Her eyes were aglow as she looked from the misty image to the mountain that was steadily growing ahead of them. “We aren’t real and so that space isn’t visible to us.”

“Everything out there is real,” Doc Foster objected. “And we can see the rest of it.”

Maximoff blinked and shook her head. The mist between her hands drifted away into nothing, and her hands clenched briefly around themselves. “All I know is that we need to be in reality to know what’s there. We won’t see it from here.”

“We’re not going anywhere until I say so,” Quill insisted.

Maria frowned. “Don’t resist just for the sake of resisting, Quill. Take us through!”

“This is where Gamora died,” Quill said. “We don’t know what happened to her—”

“And we won’t find out from here,” Nick said firmly. “Take us through.”

Doc Foster said nothing, just held out her hand, her expression impatient.

“Why do I feel like this is a conspiracy against me?” But Quill reached out, his fingers laced with the Doc’s, and—

Reality was a jolt.

Everything felt...not heavier, exactly, just more...present. He was breathing. His heart was beating. He was muscle and bone and neuron and consciousness, and he was alive.

On the other side of the cockpit, Maria made a noise like she was stifling a gasp. Her knuckles were white on the armrests, and her lips were firmly pressed together. Nick caught her eye and lifted his brows in question, but she shook her head, then squeezed her eyes shut.

“Okay, that definitely wasn’t there before,” Quill said.

The peak of the leaning mountain was clear enough to see against the distant glow of the horizon, even for Nick and his limited vision – a pointed promontory with a pair of pylons standing sentinel to the sky. They were too far away to see the spectral shape or the carved channel, but apart from those details, it looked just as Maximoff had shown them.

“What is that?” The Doc asked. “Who built it? And why _here_?”

The _Milano_ sped closer, eating up the distance, but the winds were getting stronger.

“Hold tight,” Quill advised as he began wrestling with the yoke. “It’s gonna be a rough one—”

No sooner had he spoken, then the previously smooth flight path became a jerky struggle to stay on course. Crosswinds buffeted them, slinging them to and fro with the turbulence. And the closer they got to the peak, the harder the winds got, and the less control Quill seemed to have over the ship.

“We’re not going to make it to the peak,” Quill yelled as he fought with the _Milano_ ’s controls. “Not this way.”

“Wait, look!” Maximoff pointed away from the peak. “Is that a path?”

Quill gave her a sharp glance, but banked the _Milano_ away from the peak. As he did so, the flight smoothed out, the winds dropping like they’d just flown out of a wind-tunnel into open air.

“What the—?”

“There’s a path,” repeated Doc Foster. “It goes in and out of the mountains cracks and crevices, but it’s definitely a trail. And it looks like it heads for the peak.”

“Maybe we’re not supposed to fly over the peak,” Maria suggested softly. “Maybe the only way up there is on foot.”

“Like a quest?” The Doc turned and stared hard at her.

“Why not?” The smile was wry. “All things worth having require sacrifice.”

Nick saw the Doc’s gaze flick to him, narrow-eyed, before it slid away. Maria was watching him, too, and he couldn’t meet her gaze for more than a moment. The reality of what he was going to do was starting to weigh on him. Gruffly, he asked, “Are we going in or not?”

There were no more buffeting crosswinds as they set down by what looked like the start of the trail up the mountain.

“A natural starting point,” Maria murmured. “And a way of preventing anyone from taking a short cut.”

Nick looked at the others as they came up to the start of the trail. “Are we all going up?”

“You can stay behind,” Quill said, oblivious to their purpose here. “I’m going up to find out what happened to Gamora.”

With that, he started up the trail, leaving the others looking helplessly at each other. Maria was the next to start up the trail behind him, and Nick followed behind her. He glanced back, half-expecting the Doc would choose to stay behind, but she was bringing up the rear, behind Maximoff, who looked about her with a gaze that seemed to see a lot more than just the torn surface of the rockface and the uneven trail they walked. When she met Nick’s gaze, he forced himself to hold it for at least a second, before he looked back up the trail.

How long did they walk? Nick didn’t check. It might have been an hour, it might have been days – time didn’t seem to have meaning here. They climbed, and the light neither changed to tell them the time of day, nor gave any indication of time passing.

The others talked a little. Maria asked Quill about Gamora and Thanos, about Nebula – another of Thanos’ adopted daughters, about Quill’s relationship with Gamora. And as Nick listened, he pieced together the picture of a warlord who did what he did in the unequivocal belief that he was right and justified in his actions. A man who took children from the planets he half-slaughtered, brought them to his stronghold and raised them up as his ‘children’ with all the privileges and responsibilities it entailed. And in the process, he played the strong off against the weak, taught them to distrust each other even as they commanded his armies, rewarded them for their successes and punished them for their failures.

It wasn’t a comfortable picture.

Perhaps Nick was over-identifying, but he’d held his own beliefs about the universe and used his power to shape the world to meet that reality. And if he’d never slaughtered half a planet, he’d made choices that others would consider questionable, conceded rights and responsibilities in exchange for opportunities and outcomes, and trained his agents to do the same.

Had Thanos regretted sacrificing his daughter for the Soul stone? Was that even what had happened?

What was it about sacrificing a child that was teasing at his brain? Something from way back, a phrase from a bible story that caught at his brain.

_And the Lord said unto Abraham...Take your son and go to the mountain..._

He stepped aside as Doc Foster and Maximoff edged past him one by one on a wider section of path. Up ahead, Maria had stopped, and the Doc was pausing by to inquire after her.

“...no, I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to do this.” The woman’s expression was fierce as she looked at her friend. “We can find another way.”

“Can we?” Maria glanced up at the peak. “Do we have the time?”

“We had the time in there!” The Doc sighed and studied Maria. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Just taking a spell.”

Doc Foster glanced back and her gaze met Nick’s. She frowned a little, shook her head, and headed up after the others, while Maria waited for him to catch up.

“I’m fine,” she said as he drew up alongside her. “But you looked grim in thought.”

“I was thinking about the Bible.”

Maria looked at him with an expression of, ‘ _are you kidding?_ ’ But all she said was, “Okay.”

“I’ll have you know I had a good Christian upbringing. Not a lot of it stuck, that’s all.” Her expression was somewhere between wary and suspicious, and Nick grinned to himself as they moved on up to the others. “Never mind. I’m not explaining.”

“You rarely did.”

The past tense grated in his ears, and Nick turned. “The Doc is right. We don’t have to do it like this.”

“How, then?” Maria stopped and looked him in the eye. “Who else is there who’ll do this? Who else matters?”

Nick thought about _ushaviat_ and the Wakandan fighting corps. He thought about Romanov and Barton gone to the Avengers, and Coulson and May faded into the background. He thought about going dark and updates via emails and letter drops and secret drop-boxes on cloud servers: the skills learned during the Cold War being granted a new lease of life in the virtual world of the internet. And calling for help – occasionally from other agents, but mostly from Maria.

“I don’t want to do this.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” She swallowed. “I want to live; I want my child to live. But stacked up against half the universe...we’re nothing. Vision asked Wanda to kill him, Gamora asked Quill to kill her. We’re not like them,” she said and looked uncomfortable at even referencing it. “But I’m asking you to do this. Because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t take an order.”

“Damn right, I won’t.” Nick exhaled, then jerked his head. “We’d better catch up with the others.”

The others were just navigating around the curve of a boulder, arguing about how far up they’d come and how long they’d been at it.

“Are we moving, or are we yakking?” Nick asked.

Quill rolled his eyes but continued climbing. “There’s nothing here, we’ve walked for hours, and we haven’t seen a single soul...”

He trailed off, and they all looked up at the arch that loomed overhead, and the floating figure in the ragged cloak that drifted down the hill from twin pylons point up to the clouded sky.

“Now you have, Peter Quill, son of Meredith.” The voice from the cloak rasped like the scrape of Chitauri bodies being dragged for destruction. “A single soul to meet...so many.”

Nick straightened, angling his body slightly so Maria and Doc Foster were behind him. Maximoff could look after herself, and so could Quill. His movement drew the attention of the cowled figure.

“Nicholas Fury, son of Ayesha, you have nothing to fear from me.” Amusement threaded through the voice as the spectre drifted over the uneven rocks and through the stone arch, and the light from the burning moon showed scarlet traces of a skull-like face. Fear sliced through him, sharp and burning, as he looked into a face that he’d never seen in the flesh, only in photos held in SRS archives. “I am no threat to your Earth anymore. Or to your companions...” The Red Skull glanced at the others. “Maria Hill, daughter of Robert; Wanda Maximoff, daughter of Django; Jane Foster, daughter of...”

“How do you know us?” Quill demanded. “Did you know we were coming? Who told you?

“I know all who come seeking the Soul stone.” The last two words were breathed out like a man’s dying curse. “I know, because I am given to know it.”

“You’re the gatekeeper.” Maximoff said, and although her voice was strong, beneath it lurked horror. “Bound to your post.”

“Cursed, because I desired what would not accept me.”

“The Tesseract,” Nick said.

“Wait,” Quill interrupted. “If you know everyone who came here for the Soul stone, then you know that Gamora came here with Thanos. What happened to her?”

“Two arrived.” The Red Skull had no lips with which to grin, but the sense of bared teeth was there. “One left.”

Quill drew his weapon. “Is she here? Did you kill her?” In spite of the threat that Quill presented, the Red Skull neither moved, nor ducked, as though it knew that there was nothing Quill could do to it.

“Is the Soul stone here?” Maria interrupted, and the Red Skull turned slowly to face her.

“Yes, but it may not be taken without a price.”

“A life,” she said. “A sacrifice that matters.”

“An exchange,” said the Red Skull, “one soul for another – that which you love most. To gain true power over the Soul stone, you must lose your own soul.”

“It has to accept you.” Maximoff said. “And you have to be willing to accept it, too.”

“You would know.” Hollow eyes turned upon her. “Child of an infinity stone, your powers given birth through the wielding of Mind... Everything I desired, you were given,” it hissed. “Would you now claim Soul as well?”

In the corner of his eye, Nick saw Maria step back, her hand instinctively pressing over her stomach. Then she froze as the Red Skull turned on her, like a mouse under the eye of a snake whose attention it had just gained. The cloak flapped in a brittle wind as it rasped, “You carry life within you? Do you think to exchange your child—” It stopped, drew up, and in its eyes flared hollow flame. “ _Rogers’_ child—”

Within the tattered edges of the cloak, skeletal hands flexed. Nick saw the glint of metal and was moving before he thought what he was doing.

Pain, sharp and silver, stabbing through his senses as voices cried out in shock and anger.

He looked up the shaft of the flat-bladed spear to the hands clenched around the haft, up into the face of what had been a man once before power and greed overtook him. And the shock and terror in the Red Skull’s expression would have stolen the breath from his chest, had he any to spare.

Nick sucked in a breath of air, wanting to scream with the pain – worse than Goose’s claws, worse than Barnes’ bullets. It was fire in his chest, in his lungs, in his belly. He started to wrap his hands around the haft but there was no strength in his grip. If the Red Skull chose to rip it out, he’d be dead within seconds—

But the Red Skull made no move to tear out the spear. Only his cloak fluttered in the wind as he stared at Nick wild-eyed, its teeth bared in a snarl of rage that transmuted into horror as it realised what it had done. Wild-eyed, the nightmare face began to scream as the Red Skull began to fray away - not the way they’d all flaked into dust and oblivion, but as though it was being savaged at the edges into little snippets of darkness that blew away on the wind.

Nick wanted to shudder. The sound was almost human in its loss, a dying wail of agony as the darkness shredded it into nothing. The scream choked and died as the last pieces fluttered off into the shadows, leaving behind only silence.

He swayed – or maybe the world wobbled. And then Maria was there in front of him.

“God, Nick, what were you doing?”

Her hands instinctively reached for the spear before she jerked back, realizing nothing she could do would help.

And Nick didn’t have words for her, all his strength going towards holding up the weight of the spear’s haft, which was slowly pulling downwards, cutting deeper into his body—

The agonising pressure in his chest eased as the pink glow of Maximoff’s power surrounded him, holding the blade in place, supporting the shaft, and numbing the bleeding. Either that, or he’d gone into shock.

He lifted his gaze to say thanks, and paused.

Beyond the Scarlet Witch, the path led through the arch leading up to the peak. And at the top of the path loomed the paired pylons that cut up into the sky.

They’d come here to get the Soul stone, to find out what price needed paying.

_To gain true power over the Soul stone, you must lose your own soul..._

And Nick knew.

He took as deep a breath as he could, mustering the strength and air to speak. “Maria. You said...I called you every time. And yeah, I did.”

She stared at him, not yet understanding, wary of where this was going.

“I called you...and you always answered.”

Slow comprehension was growing in her eyes.

“You were doing a job,” he said. “Working for Stark. Running the Avengers. Living your life. But every time I called...you answered.” And there it was. “I trusted you to come...and you came. Even when the world didn’t need us to protect it anymore.”

One soul for another – that which was most loved. And no, the common word in English didn’t fit for what was between them, but the Wakandan term maybe approached it.

Trust. Care. Purpose. Loyalty.

_Ushaviat._

“D’you understand?”

Maria exhaled – the long, soughing breath that she gave when she was out of options and she was going to concede to him. And Nick knew that he’d won – that he was right, even before she answered grimly, “I wish I didn’t.”

Thanos had sacrificed his daughter and thought it was enough - a child he’d reared and taught to fight and strategize and hate.

Nick had raised up others in his own image, and hoped it would be enough to protect the world. And while the others had taken it to heart and imbued their work with all the passion of which they were capable, Maria had taken it to soul, and done the job because it needed to be done, even when nobody recognised a job was being done anymore.

“A soul for Soul,” he managed, and wheezed his next breath. His heartbeat sounded too loud in his ears, and he couldn’t feel his feet or his fingertips anymore. “Don’t think I’ve got...too much time left...so let’s do this.”

Maximoff carried him through the arch, up the slope to the plateau at the top of the promontory, and let him down at the edge of the broken circle with its empty drop beneath.

Now he knew why he’d looked at the misty image between Maximoff’s hands and felt that lingering dread.

“Seems overly-dramatic,” he commented through shallow breaths, and earned a choked laugh from Maria as she drew alongside him.

“No kidding.” She looked at him in the blowing wind. “I’m not going to name the kid after you.”

“And here I hoped it’d be one in Rogers’ eye.”

But the quip had no teeth. She’d look after herself and her child, because that was what Maria did. She’d look after the world – after the universe, because that was what he’d given her the chance to do.

Thanos had tried to make a daughter in his own image - only to sacrifice her to further his ambition.

Nick had made a daughter in his own image – and now she’d sacrifice him to see their own ambitions realized.

_...protect and serve...whatever the cost..._

He set his feet at the edge and indicated the shaft of the spear. His vision – never great these last few years – was starting to waver. “Do it.”

Maria stepped forward, and took the spear in her hands. She looked into his eyes, and waited for his nod. One swift, smooth yank jerked it from his body, the blade grating on bone and slicing flesh as it came out. He saw burning moonlight flash the length of the blade as she tossed it over the edge.

Released from Maximoff’s hold, from the agony of the spear, Nick wavered on his feet.

Light-headed, he wondered, would he fall? Like a collapse off the edge? So undignified—like dignity mattered in this moment—

Pain anchored him in his body, bringing him back to the now, to the here, to the edge of the fall.

There was a fist twisted in his sweater, half-holding him up on the edge. Maria’s eyes met his, her expression steel, but her eyes wet. His hand groped for hers between them. He had no strength, but his fingers snagged on her wrist. Strength and warmth and the pulse of life.

Resolution, even through the tears, and they exhaled as one.

Agony bloomed in his chest as she pushed him off. His hand slid across hers, but he didn’t try to grab for her.

The pale oval of her face turned to watch him as he fell from the ledge without a struggle.

Every time he’d called her.

Including the last.

Nick fell, and the darkness reached out and swallowed him whole.


	20. Part Five: All About Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Your Majesty_ by Lorne Balfe and Rupert Gregson-Williams

The burning moon left no shadow on the gritty grey sands of Vormir.

She was sitting on a dune, splay legged, like she’d escaped from hell and her legs wouldn’t carry her any longer. She was sitting in the dark and the cold, with the mountain a heavy weight against the steel-edged clouds that were slowly swallowing the moon. She had one hand over the child she’d only just begun to reconcile herself to carrying, and in the other...

In the other...

It glowed with an internal light, a drop of fire that fractured in the gleam of her tears as it slipped from her bloody palm to the ground with a soft _chink._

_Every time I called, you answered._

She’d had no-one else to answer _to_.

_You take her._

_She’s your daughter!_

_I don’t have anything for her. Liliana took everything with her when she died._

_Hill-the-Pill! Hill-the-Pill! We’re gonna swallow you up and spit you out! Hill-the-Pill!_

_Look, it’s not that I don’t like you – I mean you’re not terrible but...I thought you’d introduce me to Megan..._

_Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Of course you don’t. You’ve just wrecked six weeks of planning..._

_Agent Walker, a moment please?_ Once the agent walked away, he regarded her with one judicious eye – the other was hidden behind a patch. The effect was one part pirate, one part thug. But Maria knew better than to imagine this man was anything as simple as a thug. It was in the way the agent had hove to the instant he spoke, the distance the others were keeping now that he was giving her the talk, the way he didn’t lean over her, like she needed intimidating.

 _If six weeks of planning can be upended by one person in the wrong place at the wrong time, it’s not very good planning._ It was the kind of observation that would usually get her ass kicked by an instructor – some Sergeant who’d heard all the sass before and wasn’t about to take it from a girl. She half expected this man – this _agent_ – to do the same.

Instead his expression lightened, subtle shades of amusement. _You think you could do better?_

 _I don’t know what I’ve got to work with, so I couldn’t say,_ she answered.

_And if I give you the pieces to work with?_

She nearly laughed in his face. _Is your organisation in the habit of giving complete strangers resources to undertake their missions?_

 _Interesting choice of words – organisation, resources, missions..._ His eyes sharpened. _Military?_

_United States Marines Corps, sir!_

_Don’t yell at me, I’m half-blind, not deaf._

Anyone thinking this man was half-blind was completely blind themselves. She’d have bet a year’s pay that this man saw more out of one eye than most saw out of two.

And Fury had seen her.

Others had seen one more agent, a rule-bound peon, an uppity bitch, a stepping stone on their way to better things. Nick had seen someone he could rely on, someone he could trust, someone he could pull up with him. And when S.H.I.E.L.D crumbled and the Avengers walked away, trust and loyalty had shifted from professional to more personal. Not ‘love’ as Hallmark would like to present it – twee and sappy and sexual – but something more like reciprocal faith. A shared belief, a shared vision, and the knowledge that the other person would back you up when you needed.

_You said I called you every time, and yeah I did._

_You’re going, aren’t you? Just because he called you._

Steve hadn’t understood – there were very few people who called Maria when they needed someone. Maybe only Nick anymore.

“Maria.”

She looked up at Wanda’s steady and watchful gaze, the footprints leading back to where Jane and Quill were standing. “I’m fine,” she said, and wiped her eyes with the unbloodied back of her hand. “Are the others okay?”

“We’re surprised,” said Jane, coming up behind Wanda “And a little shaken—are you okay? Not _okay_ okay, but...at least...not hurt.”

“Not anywhere it shows,” Maria said, grateful for the lack of sympathy. She scooped up the Soul stone and shook the sand from it, then accepted Wanda’s hand up. Retreating into formality was instinct and training; when everything had crashed and burned, fall back on procedure. “Status report?”

“Doing a whole lot better than Fury,” Quill snapped, coming up. “What the hell happened up there? Is that what happened to Gamora?”

“We had a theory about the stones,” Jane began. “About how Thanos got hold of the Soul stone. We didn’t know if it would work...”

“So you just used me to get here?”

“You wanted to find out what happened to Gamora,” Maria said, steeling herself. “You found out.”

“You were going to let me watch all this happen knowing it had already happened to Gamora!” Quill looked around at them. Whatever he saw in their expressions clearly didn’t help, because he half-turned away as though he was going to stomp off to the ship, then turned back. “So, is there anything you _won’t_ do in all this?”

The accusation stung as much as any other that had been levelled at her before. “Plenty of things,” she said. Then, honesty required her to qualify, “Probably.

“Gamora wasn’t a willing sacrifice,” Wanda said, her voice rising over the wind.

 “And the fact that Fury was willing makes all the difference, then?”

“Yes.” Maria couldn’t have explained how she knew that, only that the willing sacrifice added something to possession of the Soul stone. A kind of...trust. She swallowed as her belly twinged and closed her fingers more firmly about the Soul stone. It was warm to the touch, with only the faintest sensation of power to it – like an engine’s hum beneath a protective casing, waiting to be revved into gear.

“So, should we be standing around here talking, or should we be getting back?” Jane asked. “Because that mountain is starting to grate on my nerves.”

“We should—” Quill broke off as something lit up the dark landscape mere yards away – a glittering arc of sparks whirling into a sorcerous portal that swept towards them, up to them, over them, transporting them to—

Titan, again.

Not the shadow-verse Titan, but reality.

Maria blinked against the glare of the sun, the reek of rust and dust, and the dry chill of the place – very different from the moist damp of Vormir. They were back on a ‘shelf’ of rubble overlooking a wide, open space amidst the bombarded spheres and skeletal toruses – a distinctly different view to the one that she’d found herself in this morning when Jane had summoned her into reality—

Had it only been this morning? It felt so long ago now.

It felt...different, too. Different to this morning, when the air had seemed stinging and hard against her throat, and the light too bright and stabbing against the dusty, rusty ruins of the planet.

Now? Now, she could feel something more in the place she stood – a deep disquieting ache that echoed loss and emptiness. There’d been a civilisation here – a people living in this place that was now ruins and rubble. They’d lived and died, laughed and wept, loved and hated and sacrificed, and the soul of what they’d been – what they’d hoped to be – remained long after they were gone.

Green glinted in the corner of her eye. Maria turned and for a moment saw the planet as it had been, the spaceport whole and shining new amidst the lush parklands of the planet—

And still, beneath the beauty of it, the soil felt heavy and burdened – untended, uncared for by a people who didn’t think about tomorrow or the future, but only lived in the now.

Was this what Thanos had seen when he’d stood here? Was it what had made him who he was?

The soft sound of portals opening and closing snapped Maria back to the present.

Mere yards away, Strange stood to one side, making pushing and pulling movements with his hands. Around them, various portals whooshed open and closed, bringing people through from the shadow-verse. Groot blinked as he looked around, his mouth open in surprise. Barnes reached for the weapon he carried across his body, but didn’t bring it up as he swung in a tight circle, taking a sitrep before turning back to them. Loki staggered briefly, his arms out as he regained his balance.

His eyes narrowed as he turned to Strange. “I’m sure you know how annoying that is.”

“I do,” said Strange with a malicious twist to the corner of his mouth. “And I’m taking particular pleasure in it right now. So, it’s time to make some decisions.”

“It’s time for some answers, you mean,” Barnes said, stepping up. “Starting with where did you guys go?”

More pressing for Maria was another question that bubbled up inside her. “No, starting with ‘just how long have you been able to move between reality and the other side?’”

Strange’s expression twitched with annoyance. “A while.”

“A while as in ‘since Barnes brought back the glove’?” Maria kept her voice level and calm. She wasn’t about to be accused of being a shrieking harpy, even if she wanted to say a few choice words to Strange. “Or a while as in ‘since we first arrived on the other side’?”

“It wasn’t part of the plan.”

She wasn’t letting him off that easily. Not after what this ‘plan’ had cost her.

“This would be that plan which you kept almost entirely to yourself?” He’d known where this would end up – he had to have seen what the price would be – and he’d given them no warning, no notice, no chance to come to terms with it.

“If you know anything about the difficulty in revealing possible futures—”

“I know all about the difficulty of making decisions based on inadequate intelligence!”

A sharp whistle cut through the conversation. Jane removed her fingers from her mouth. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said clearly, “but it’s been a really long couple of days and I’d like my life to go back to normal now. Which I presume is what we’ll be doing now that we have all six stones.”

Barnes frowned. “All six...?”

He trailed off as Maria opened her hand to show the Soul stone.

“Now that truly _is_ interesting,” Loki said, his eyes resting avidly on Maria’s face. “What, I wonder, did you pay for it?”

“Enough,” she told him as she closed her hand around the stone. Maybe he couldn’t take it from her, maybe he wasn’t going to try, but she wasn’t taking chances.

“ _I am Groot_!”

Quill looked down at him. “Yeah, I found out what happened to Gamora.”

“ _I am Groot_.” Groot looked to Maria before looking to her hand. “ _I am Groot_?”

“Yes,” she said, swallowing down the ache that threatened her composure. “He gave up his life for it.”

“We had a theory,” Jane said, “Najira and I, that the requisite to connect with the Infinity stones is sacrifice of some kind. You had to give up something precious to you, and in sacrificing it, you gained power over an Infinity stone.”

“Power?”

“Maybe a better term is ‘mastery’,” Strange said, quietly. “The stone won’t merely do your bidding, it’ll do your will.”

“That sounds like splitting hairs,” Barnes observed. His eyes flickered over to Maria. “Mantis was saying that Thanos took Gamora to Vormir and came back without her – that Gamora was the payment for the Soul stone.”

“He sacrificed her,” Quill snarled. “Like she was nothing—”

“Except,” said Wanda quietly, “she was everything.”

“And was Fury _her_ everything?”

Maria bit back her instinctive retort at Barnes’ comment. “Nick sacrificed himself,” she said quietly. “It was his decision when the Red Skull—”

“The Red Skull was there?”

She’d forgotten that would be a point of interest. “He was the keeper of the Soul stone – sentenced to watch others possess what he’d been denied after the Tesseract rejected him. He attacked me because of Steve’s child.”

“And Fury would have defended you.” Barnes watched her with narrowed eyes. “So he sacrificed himself for you, and you get the stone.”

“Which completes the set.” Strange interposed before Maria could object to Barnes’ phrasing. A wave of one hand swirled open a portal above them which dropped the glove out in the midst of them. Wanda caught it, and the glowing pink net around it loosened and the glove hung in the air in the middle of them all, the five glowing stones in it brightening as they seemed to sense the proximity of the last of their number.

“Okay,” said Barnes. “So…we have six stones and one glove…is the reason I’m here because I was the last to wield the glove?”

“Perhaps.” Strange gave him a thin smile. “I didn’t know if you were necessary to releasing the stone from the glove, so I thought it better to err on the side of caution.”

“You mean you don’t know everything?”

The smile he turned on Quill got thinner, if it were possible. “Disappointingly, no.”

Wanda made a gesture with her hands, and the stones sprang from their places in the glove and into the air, each one coming to a stop before the person to whom it gave mastery.

The glove fell to the rubble below, one more piece of Titan trash.

“And I guess that answers that.”

“Which brings us to the next point.” Strange looked around at the others. “I can pull us back in time to the point where Thanos ended the universe, but that does us no good if we have six people individually wielding six stones. It was a single decision that changed everything; it needs to be a single decision to change it back.”

“You expect us to cede the stones to someone else?” Loki inquired. “And who, pray tell, would be the person you would nominate to wield the entire set?”

“Not you,” Strange said, dryly.

“I didn’t doubt it,” Loki replied, equally dry. “But I’ve no desire to cede the Tesseract to you, either, so you’ll forgive me for being a little skeptical of your intentions.”

Barnes shifted on his feet. “Thanos said something when I first got the glove and tried to change everything back: _what all six have wrought can’t be unwrought._ ” He looked around the circle. “Are we even sure we can do this?”

Maria looked to Strange. He was the one who’d set all this up, who’d guided them through the steps, and steered them away from the pitfalls. He’d been the one to see how it might end – if it even could.

“We can,” he said. “But it’s...torturous.”

Quill threw up his hands. “And letting Thanos destroy the universe so that we could stop him _wasn’t_?”

“It was the only way.” Strange snapped. “Look, do you think I’ve enjoyed this? Waiting and watching and never quite knowing whether or not any of this was going to work? Hoping that people would make the choices that would see us through? Knowing that the others are out there, thinking that we’re gone and never knowing what’s happening? Why do you think I’ve been absent so much?”

“Considering you’ve been able to come back to reality whenever you liked,” Loki remarked, “I’m wondering that myself.”

“Don’t you even _start_ —”

“Enough!” Maria cut through their bickering. This whole situation was doing her head no favours at all, and it seemed that her body wasn’t much liking the return to reality. “So it’s not going to be easy? I don’t think any of us signed up for easy; if we had, we wouldn’t be here.”

She looked from Quill to Strange to Loki, catching their eyes and daring them to protest. She’d sacrificed two of the most important people in her life today – one of them very personally less than an hour ago – and she was not in the mood to deal with any more shit than she had to. Maybe that showed in the glare she pinned them with, because even Loki hesitated to snark into the silence.

“I choose Maria,” Wanda said into the silence. “I cede mastery of Mind to her.”

The glove flared in a yellow-gold haze, and a wisp swirled out of the Mind stone and into the Soul stone in Maria’s hand.

Maria blinked and everything around her was a golden overlay of...equations and diagrams, spiralling detail, unravelled mysteries, and the hinted potential of all understanding—

Maria blinked again and the overlay was gone, although the lingering sense of _more_ remained, like something just waiting to be prompted for information.

She looked to Wanda. “What was _that_?”

Wanda smiled faintly. “I trust you.”

“Why?”

“Yes,” echoed Loki, “why?”

“Because she’s not a hero,” Strange said. “And she’s not afraid to admit it.” He nodded at Maria, and a wisp of green spun out of the green gem on the glove and darted into the Soul stone. Was there a faint hint of mockery in his eyes? Maria couldn’t tell. But the sudden sense of age and agelessness that spread through her suggested he’d just ceded the power of Time to her, so...if he was mocking her then the joke was on him.

The Soul stone was still a softly glowing orange – the same tint, she realized, as the shadow-verse had been. Did that mean the others were trapped inside the Soul stone? Was that where they had been all this time?

“You know, this is feeling a lot like peer pressure,” Quill said testily. “Why should we trust her with the power of the stones? For that matter, why do we have mastery over the stones? Because I let Thanos take Gamora away?”

“Because you were supposed to kill Gamora,” Wanda said. “Because she made you promise and you tried but you couldn’t.”

Quill stared at her. “I wasn’t...I couldn’t.” He looked wildly around. “And by the time I could, then Thanos—Thanos—”

“Being unable to kill your lover isn’t usually considered a character flaw.” Maria reminded him. “And you’re not trained for it.”

“And you _are_ trained to kill a lover?” Barnes demanded.

Maria met his gaze. “ _Protect and defend the Earth from any and all threats to its autonomy and independence, no matter the cost._ That was the brief the day I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. It was the brief the day I brought down the helicarriers with Steve still on them.” She thought of blood pulsing from Nick’s chest, of the slow and inexorable fall of his body into the chasm. “It’s still the brief.”

A gust of wind blew around them, whistling through the crannies and crevices of the rubble they stood among. And in the lull after the wind had died down, a light, clear voice said, “ _I am Groot_!”

A purple tendril shot into the Soul stone.

_…your will be done – all of it, done…_

“Groot!”

Groot looked at Quill like he was being stupid. “ _I am Groot_!”

“You don’t even know what she’ll do with it.”

“ _I am Groot_.”

“You’re an idiot, is what you are...” Quill scowled and glared at Maria. “All right, I cede my mastery to you, then.”

Grudging as his declaration was, the red tendril wound itself out of the glove and into the Soul stone just the same as the others.

Carefully, Maria put away the feeling of endless and unceasing possibilities as everyone looked at Loki.

“You know,” Loki remarked, “as touching as this is, under no circumstances am I going to cede the Tesseract to you. It did belong to my father, after all. And with Hela still possibly somewhere around – because I doubt even you could hold her forever,” he said to Strange, “I’m oddly reluctant to give up my right to it.”

Jane snorted. “You’d be reluctant to give up your right to it even if you had no excuse at all. And the others haven’t give up their right to their gems – I really can’t see the mystic order of sorcerers allowing anyone else to wield the Time gem – they’ve just...loaned Maria the use of it.”

Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. “My brother always had an unhealthy love of smart mouthy women.” A streak of blue spiralled out of the glove and swirled around the Soul stone.

In her hand, the Soul stone quivered.

Maria jerked.

An explosion of awareness coursed through her – the electric zing of Power slashing through the corrupting current of Time; Mind’s endless quest for knowledge and the unravelling mysteries of the universe sharpening Reality’s razor edge; Space’s voluminous vastness and compressed density that still couldn’t disperse the quiet ache of Soul and everything she’d paid to claim it.

And with the awareness came the drifting mist of something like terror.

It pushed at her, like rage beneath her breastbone, an unimaginable comprehension of...everything. If she looked too closely, she’d go mad – the finite was not made to hold the infinite...

 _You don’t have to hold it in,_ whispered temptation at her ear, a little voice that had haunted her through nights and days, years of frustration, of being overlooked, of going unnoticed – the girl, the good one, the boring one, the unwanted one... _You could just channel it, just do it. Everything you’ve ever wanted and nothing you don’t. Make or break the universe by your whim alone...give birth to all the possibilities of which you never dreamed..._

Standing beneath Titan’s burned-out skies, Maria shivered.

Anything and everything she’d ever wanted to do – to have the capability of doing it, to do it _her_ way, the   _right_ way…

No.

Titan’s air was thin and dry in her lungs as Maria took a long, deep breath and opened her eyes.

The others were all watching her, wariness in their expressions, as though they were waiting for her to explode.

Maria looked around at them. “Have I grown horns?”

“No,” said Jane promptly, “but you were glowing for a moment – incandescent. And everything went a little...wonky around you.”

“Wonky?”

“It’s a technical term.” Jane didn’t quite smile. “How are you feeling? Do you feel like you’ve got the energy of six infinity stones coursing through you?”

Maria blinked. “It’s...busy.” And it wasn’t the fullness of all six stones in her – just Soul. The others were there – she had links to them – but they were...held elsewhere: by the five individuals who they’d claimed for their own. Well, six, if you counted Jane, which...the Reality stone seemed to be recognising in some way that Maria didn’t have the vocabulary or understanding to define.

“But you don’t have any desire to, I don’t know…conquer the galaxy?”

“No.” Maria said, slightly irritated by Quill’s question. “But I’m sure I could develop it with some encouragement.”

Barnes made a noise like a grunt. “ _Don’t_ encourage her. She’s terrifying enough just as a human.”

“Enjoyable as all this squabbling is,” Strange dripped dry sarcasm, “now that we have one person wielding the stones, we need to go back to the moment when it all ended...”

Around them, green lines began sketching themselves in the air. Maria felt the tug of the Time stone as Strange used it to form a spell that she could _feel_ would take them back. It built, a network of lines and circles encasing odd sigils and scripts, stitching intricate detail around each of the stones, here tinging blue and there tinging red, and laced underneath it, above it, _through_ it, the prodding question asked of Maria: _Is this what you want?_

The sudden weight of the demand and the realisation of what she was looking at froze her. Infinite power, infinite time, infinite space, infinite mind, infinite reality, all of it at her will – or her whim. To make or form or remake or reform the world into anything she wished.

But to do it – to allow this, she needed _soul_. The belief that this was right, absolutely right, without hesitation or doubt.

Maria wasn’t Thanos, to prescribe a way of living for the billions and trillions of beings out in the universe. To tell them what they should do, what they could do, what they were allowed to do. She didn’t have that belief in the rightness of _her_ way and she never had.

What she had was the belief that she couldn’t tell someone what choices to make, but she could make it so they had the chance to make those choices.

_Yes. I want this._

Around them, Titan melted away, blurring into a welter of colour and darkness, noise, indistinct shape and shadow and an icy, stabbing cold—

The world faded in to the lingering honk of a horn, Maria glimpsed a city street – shocked faces and staring at her as the car gently veered into the oncoming traffic—

She grabbed for the wheel—too late!

Glass and metal crunched. The world jerked. The seatbelt bit into her body from shoulder to hip, and her hand went protectively over her belly as the world went white and puffy for a split second—

There were shouts and cries around her. The airbag collapsed. Maria stared at the wreck of the car on the other side of the windscreen and what was left of the SUV’s hood. She’d crashed in oncoming traffic on a busy street, and the traffic was piling up around her. She turned to the driver’s seat, already knowing it was empty, but needing the evidence of her eyes.

_Back to the moment where it all ended._

But Nick was gone – not just dead, but gone.

The shock of the crash reverberated through her – or was that disbelief? Shock tinged with anger, tinged with bewilderment, tinged with concern—

Wait. Those weren’t _her_ emotions, but—

“Hey, are you okay?” The man appeared at the window, tapping on it to get her attention. A bystander, come to check on her. His eyes were dark and concerned as he looked at her, then frowned at the empty seat beside her. “Where’s your driver?”

She stared at him, trying to make sense of the moment, of the peculiar sense that she was and wasn’t here all at once.

Abruptly, he was moved aside, and the door pulled open.

“Unfortunately, I made a small miscalculation.” Strange flicked his fingers and the seatbelt released. “Come on.”

It wasn’t quite a command, but the hand on her arm wasn’t leaving much room for protest or thought. Maria glanced one more time at the empty driver’s seat, then climbed out into the street. She felt shaky, nauseous as shock and adrenaline set in. Even the portal that Strange drew in the air couldn’t seem to do more than make her blink.

“Well?” Strange gestured impatiently for her to precede him.

She didn’t know why she hesitated.

_Hill! Get your ass moving; I was old when you were born and I’m still more lively!_

_With all due respect, sir, fuck off._

When that had been? Maybe half a year after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. London, jetlag, she’d been on the move for nearly thirty-six hours – since California in fact – and Fury had hit a nerve when he demanded she be bright eyed and bushy-tailed at 0600 hours. She’d responded with profanity and he’d just laughed.

Maybe things had changed before then. But that was the moment when _she_ realized things were different.

“Hill?”

She forced herself to move, striding through the portal, bracing for the change—

Chill city air to warm forest with a hint of damp. Heat and humidity assaulted her. Leaf litter shifted beneath her feet. Blood and sweat swirled in the smoky air, and the grunts and cries of battle rang noisy around her.

“Where—?”

“Wakanda.” Strange took her shoulder, an angry, urgent note in his voice as they stepped through a gap in the underbrush— “I didn’t think that taking us back would mean we’d end up back _where_ we were—”

Maria stumbled. Everything in in her shook, resonating like the universe had sneezed. The reverberation of it jittered through her, dust and ash and an ending to all things—

They were standing in a glade. Her and Strange, and on the periphery of her sight, Jane and Quill, Groot striding forward through the Wakandan hardwoods, Wanda rising from the ground with tears glittering on her face, and Loki looking bloodshot and haggard, staggering like his limbs wouldn’t quite obey him—

They were here—

They were ready—

They were—

They were _too late_...

Thor staggered back from Thanos, whose hand was upraised, fingers just parted as though he’d just willed half the universe out of existence.

“What’d you do?” Thor demanded. “What’d you _do_?”

In a moment, they wouldn’t even _be..._

Maria felt the gathering wave of infinity build around them.

 _No,_ she thought.  _Not again._


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Unleashed_ by Thomas Bergeson

The battered and burned glove on Thanos’ hand gleamed dully in the dappled light of the forest, but the Infinity stones shone like stars, undimmed by his last act.

They tugged at Maria like hooks in her soul, and she felt the urgency as she reached for the one that yearned towards her – _everything you are, everything you wanted to be, the reason for everything you do, the rock of your existence_ – and felt the others around her, also reaching—

Now. Now. Now. Act _now_.

Loki grasped Space, eager as a lover to the object of his desire. Quill yanked Reality to him, anger and vengeance like an immolating flame. Slender wooden fingers formed a cage over the imperious purple of Power, while Wanda accepted Mind with a bittersweet joy at the familiarity of her lover’s psionic signature, and the root of her own power. And Time almost leaped to Strange, and Maria could feel the relief of the stone – like a trusting child flinging itself at her father.

_Rock would bind itself to us, too._

Soul struggled.

Thanos held it in the grip of grief and rage and a certainty of rightness that Maria couldn’t match.

Who was she to demand he cede to her?

Just a human, just a woman, just a nobody, nothing, no-one. Not a hero, not an Avenger, not even an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. She’d been born in death and raised in bitterness, steeped in casual cruelty until she got away—

_—they called me the runt Titan and mocked my opinions—_

She’d poured everything she had into the Marines, only to realise that she was trapped by bigotry and prejudice— Just a split-tail, can’t keep up, go back to the kitchen and make us a sandwich, it’s called a cockpit for a reason...

_—unimaginable power – power to remake the universe – and Bor son of Buri had it in his grasp but didn’t trust his son with it—_

And then she’d intervened in something she had no business to intervene in, and found herself in the middle of something for which she had no concept of scale...

_—and Hela was dealt with, beautiful and vicious and far too dangerous to his own ambitions, so it was just him and her father’s knowledge—_

_You’re not going to bury me in an unmarked grave with a bullet in the back of my head?_

_Private Hill, I’m offering you a job._

_To do what?_

_To protect and defend the sovereignty of Earth with every fibre of your being._

And she’d done that – she’d done that with all the resources she had to hand. S.H.I.E.L.D and military connections, intelligence agencies across the globe, and the contacts she’d made. One more cog in a giant machine, trying to make it all work. And then she’d been noticed, raised up, given more responsibility, more power – but with more power, she could do more. And sometimes she was wrong – sometimes she made mistakes – but the Russians said mistakes were the mark of a well-lived life – and when she made mistakes she picked up what she could, fitted the pieces back together and started back up again....

_I was right. Reducing the populace was the only way. It was the only thing that could be done to stop it all. Everything I’ve worked for, everything for which I’ve planned and prepared, built an empire of armies— You can’t take this from me, I’ve already done it and there’s nothing you can do..._

Slowly, Thanos turned to face Maria, the Soul stone caught between them. It was still held in the glove, but it belonged to _her_ – Maria knew it in the center of her being— _Hers_.

Why couldn’t she reach it, access it, use it?

Thanos hadn’t become so powerful by giving up. And his belief in the rightness of his choices was absolute, a towering certainty.

For all the accusations made against her – Ice Queen, Hardass Hill, the Bitter Pill – Maria didn’t have that; had never had that. Despair slithered into her throat, chilling her.For all the certainty she could bring to bear, it was nothing against Thanos’ determination.

_I won it by right of sacrifice._

He played it as though it was a trump card. Perhaps it was – to him.

And there was the flaw. Maria claimed it by right of sacrifice, too – and not someone dragged to the edge and unwillingly disposed of, arms flailing as she clung to life, but a life laid in her hands for the purpose of saving the world – a life given in trust and belief and the knowledge that if he’d done it right, then she’d carry on what he’d begun.

Thanos might have the right of it by strength of will, but Maria had the right of it by willingness and true, hearfelt, soul-born sacrifice.

She closed her fingers about the sense of the Soul stone, felt it leap to a place within her—

A fiery slash swirled in the air above Thanos, spewing sparks as a portal formed above him. He looked up, and his expression turned to abject horror. Black antlers sucked at the light as she fell, a kind of dark lightning that slashed through the tree canopy. Hela’s scream of outrage and triumph rang through the glade as she stabbed down with the black knife she carried—

Thanos lifted the glove to block—

 _Do it,_ whispered Nick’s voice, and she could feel Wanda and Strange, Quill and Groot, Loki and—

Maria yanked and the Soul stone jerked right out of the glove. And with it came the willingness Power and Mind, and Time and Space, and Reality—

Her hand closed over the physical stone, warm and pulsing like a heartbeat, and for a moment, she swore her skin was _green—_

 

**_Return everything to what it should be!_ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The light was that same, orange-tinged glow that had backlit everything in the shadow-verse – the same orange glow that emanated from the Soul stone.

There was carpet beneath her feet. Soft and thick and deep, meant to lull the unwary into concessions they wouldn’t think about until after they were given. Maria let her booted toes sink into it a little, and felt it give – precisely as much as she’d expected.

It was a large office, spacious and executive; not the place that he liked to work, but the place he used to intimidate, dignify, authorize. The lounge suite on the near half was for guests to sit for discussions, while the desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows was way too neat for any work to be done.

And it no longer existed. Hadn’t existed for years now.

Then again, neither did the man who stood in front of the windows, staring out over the Potomac, feet planted, hands clasped behind his back. How many times had Maria seen him in this exact pose, looking out at DC and the Potomac river – the power centre of a country, but just one small corner of a world he’d sworn to protect?

Although the child who leaned back and peeped out from the other side of him was new.

Green skinned and round faced, with her long black hair in two bun-like pigtails and her slightly tattered and patched pinafore, the child looked completely out of place in the pristine office. But the look she gave Maria as Maria came to join them at the window was the fearless regard of the young and bold – the measuring gaze of a kid coming to a decision about someone she didn’t know.

As Maria reached the desk, the girl smiled. Then she turned back to the window which no longer held the view of the river.

Instead, it looked out over Wakanda’s broad, sweeping plains, fringed with trees and scattered with bodies – human and alien. Thanos’ war brought to Earth in search of Vision and the Mind stone successfully located and taken, his lifelong goal executed, his vision achieved.

“What an Infinity stone has wrought can’t be stopped or changed,” Nick said, not turning from the view, “but it can be undone.”

It _had_ been undone – the knowledge trembled through Maria like a lightning bolt earthed through her veins – but the _cost—_

Nick turned towards her, studying her. His chest was whole and unwounded – no blood, no gaping hole where the blade had gone into him.

“It was worth it, you know.”

“I know.” And she did. But still, she stood here and exhaled a long and tired breath. Then started as a small hand slipped trustingly into hers, and she looked down at the solemn face of the child—

“Someone to take back with you,” Nick said, and smiled—

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_Return everything to how it should be!_ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wakanda again, her fingers closed around another hand of slender green fingers clasped around the Soul stone—

She looked into the startled dark eyes of a woman she didn’t know—

“Gamora?” Quill cried.

Gamora seemed as shocked to be alive as the others were to see her. She dragged in a harsh breath. “What’s happening? Where are we—?”

Then she saw Thanos, his gloved hand still upraised to block Hela’s downstroke. Black blade and gold glove met, and power spewed out from the point of contact like a shockwave. Maria saw it coming and braced for the impact, then gasped as she was swept up by a hard arm, and borne down to the ground.

His elbow and shoulder took the brunt of the fall, his back the worst of the shockwave; and although her head slammed backwards, his hand cradled the base of her skull, gentle as he’d ever been. She knew the scent of his sweat, the pressure of his body over hers, albeit in an entirely different setting, and her heart thudded sharply, breath catching at more than just the adrenalized shock of the moment.

Dirt pattered down, and leaves rustled, and Steve lifted his head from her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she managed. “Let me up.”

Around them, Quill and Gamora were sprawled on the forest floor, bowled over like skittles. Wanda had shielded, but was on her knees. Groot’s fingers were dug into the ground as though to brace himself, and there was no sign of Loki or Strange. Only Thor still stood, although his body was half-turned away, and he flung out a hand for Mjolnir—no, not Mjolnir but an equally elaborate axe—

Neither Hela nor Thanos seemed to notice anything around them, their whole beings focused on each other as they traded blows.

Steve drew himself up, pulling her with him, and the angle of his body indicated he was a split-second from tucking her behind him, out of harm’s way. She couldn’t let him. Not now. She let her hand rest on his shoulder for a moment, to hold him where he stood.

Pressure built around Thor, Maria could feel the power in him, no longer channelled in through Mjolnir, nor through the axe - _Jarnbjorn,_ Maria thought - but through _him_ , and the sense of lightning coiled about him as he prepared to strike—

“No, Thor!” Maria stepped forward. Intent stained the air of the clearing, so strongly, she could almost see what was about to happen. “Wait—”

Thanos was in retreat.

With the Infinity stones under the mastery of others, without a weapon to hand, Thanos was scrambling to adjust. He’d been too powerful for too long – a warlord, feared and in control of everything and everyone around him. He hadn’t known what it was to fall and have to pick himself up. He hadn’t had anyone he could trust to watch his back – not his Generals, not his ‘children’, not his servants.

And Hela was out for his blood like the proverbial woman scorned. She might be small, but she was more than capable of taking Thanos out with ruthless intent.

A black blade slashed across Thanos’ forearm, and he jerked back, barely avoiding losing an ear in the follow up. But his heel caught on a log he tried to step over, and he overbalanced, sprawling—

Triumph made a gleeful rictus of Hela’s expression as she strode towards him, triumph in every step—

But Hela wasn’t the only one who had a bitter history with Thanos—

Gamora rose from where she and Quill had tumbled, shaking off her lover’s protective grip, the Soul stone for which she’d died glowing through her fingers.

She hurled the Soul stone at the Asgardian goddess.

Pale green eyes widened in delight and anticipation as the gem arced towards her, and the slim, pale hand reached out and plucked the Soul stone from the air.

An icy hand closed around Maria’s heart.

Pride, hunger, arrogance, greed, and awful vengeance rushed through her like a drug, and she physically staggered from the onslaught. Someone called her name, but she barely heard them. The arm around her back couldn’t hold her up, the weight of Hela’s soul like a battering ram against hers. There was dirt on her knees and leaves between her fingers, but everything in her was fighting the stranglehold of Hela’s grip closing, closing, closing—

She gasped for air, for life, for _hope_ —

_No._

The rejection was complete; without a sacrifice, the stone wouldn’t sanction Hela’s touch—

Light exploded through her senses with the force of grief and joy, a flash of fire that seared her through and left her gasping. She heard Hela scream once, saw the flare of a fiery outline burn like a negative against the backdrop of the Wakandan wood—

—glimpsed the arch at Vormir, heard the snap of a long cloak in an icy wind, shuddered back from the twin blades marking the broken half-circle—

The Soul stone dropped from Hela’s fading grip—

Thanos lunged, his hand outstretched—

A long slash of gold and glittering ruby whipped through the air, ending its flight in his throat.

He fell back, choking, and the Soul stone landed softly to the ground just beyond his reach.

Gamora took an unsteady step towards him, then a second, then a third...

“No tears?” The voice was barely even a whisper. Or maybe it wasn’t even that – just the sense of regret as the Mad Titan died unmourned. “I wept for you.”

Gamora stood over him, and her shoulders heaved as she looked him in the face, but her eyes were utterly dry. “I’ve mourned what you could have been,” she said, and her voice was as clear as her eyes. “I won’t mourn what you are.”

He breathed something that might have been her name, but she ignored him as she crouched down beside his body. One yank dragged the short-bladed knife from his throat. Maria saw his hand half-lift, trying to touch her – a last, futile gesture of connection. But blood gushed from the wound, and his strength ran with it as Gamora pushed herself to her feet, scooping up the Soul stone as she rose from the dirt, and turned away.

Thanos twitched once, a kind of half-gasp of breath.

Then his gaze went blank and empty, and his body went limp.

In the silence after he fell still, Maria felt the universe tremble.

Her head lifted in alarm.

Had they stopped it? Was it over? Or had they just lost all over again?

Everything wavered for a moment, uncertain. Then it seemed to settle, solidifying around them into concrete being.

Gamora stepped in front of her, holding out a hand. The Soul stone gleamed in her palm. rather than take the stone, Maria took the hand and used it to steady herself as she got to her feet. Her back and shoulders ached, and her heart was racing entirely too fast as she stood and looked Thanos’ daughter in the face.

For a moment, they stood eye to eye, measuring each other in the long and calculating looks of women who were accustomed to wariness. And the Soul stone sat warm and accepting between their still-joined palms.

“ _I don’t want it,_ ” Maria said, and saw and heard Gamora’s lips move in the same sentiment. “ _And you think I do_?”

Their eyes met, mouths twitching as they softened into amusement. Gamora looked away, and Maria looked beyond her to the figures converging on the glade. Others were starting to realise that the tide had turned, or had heard the fight and come to see. Most stopped at the sight of Thanos’ lifeless body. Rhodey looked from her to the others around them, but Okoye strode forward and poked the corpse with her spear.

Then she looked up at Maria, and her expression brightened in surprise. “Commander.”

“General.”

Beyond her, T’Challa paused, his gaze sweeping across them, noting those who were there – and those who weren’t. “Commander Hill? You are here—? But then— Where is General Fury?”

All she could do was shake her head and watch as understanding and respectful grief dawned on T’Challa’s face.

Was it cowardly to shy away from that conversation when the pain was only hours old? Maybe. Certainly Maria knew it was cowardly when she saw Bucky gripping Steve’s arms and speaking in low and urgent tones, and turned away from them, towards the gap in the trees where the alien ships still hovered in the Wakandan sky. Even as she watched, more transports landed, disbursing more armies, unaware that the reason for which they fought was dead.

The battle was still in play – would likely continue until Thanos’ generals called off their dogs.

Maria looked at Gamora. “How do we stop it?”

“ _We_ don’t,” Gamora said, and pressed the Soul stone into Maria’s hand. “ _You_ do.”

She shuddered, suddenly remembering what she’d seen in Strange’s futures: power used, and slowly corrupting, until power was all that was known. In her hand, the Soul gem quivered, as though sensing her disquiet. And in the resonance, she remembered _._

_Protect and defend Earth from any and all threats to its autonomy and independence..._

It was a charge, yes, but also a binding – a self-imposed limitation on the scope of execution.

She called for Power – just a thread to see this done, and Groot answered with understanding and agreement. She reached for Reality, and felt Quill’s grip on the stone ease back as his suspicions gave way to resolve.

This time it spread out slowly from her, gentler than the grim and desperate order that had kept the universe whole. The image she’d formed in her head slid up across the fields, vanishing the alien fighters where they stood or fought or lay. It spread out beyond the battlefield, drifting over the troop transports like objects beneath a magician’s cloak – the briefest impression of a shape that then faded, never to be seen again. Up, then, into the sky, sweeping over the spaceships that hovered there, and blinking them out in flashes one by one, until the skies of Wakanda – the skies of Earth – were clear.

Cheers echoed across the valley, a jubilant celebration of voices rising in a chant of syllables that Maria didn’t need translated to recognise.

_Wakanda forever._

Maria’s breath caught in her throat as the world tugged sideways a little.

Something was happening through the Space stone – the link stretching thin and tenuous, before it rushed back upon her with dizzying force. This time, she _felt_ the stretching of the points between _there_ and _here_ , and knew what was happening even before thunder rumbled, distant and ominous.

As she opened her eyes, the sky tore, a blue-edged rip in the fabric of space to show a flotilla of silvery capsules and a battered ship visible in the distant blackness of space—

The cheering broke off.

“What now?” Okoye cried.

Gamora stepped up beside her. “What is it?”

“Loki,” Maria managed. “It’s...Loki... He’s making the portal—”

“Yeah, but what’s he bringing through?”

Ships, she thought. But small ones – almost like capsules, really, and behind them the broken, battered frame of a spaceship that had seen some hard battle…

Lightning split the sky as Thor lifted his axe to the sky with a jubilant cry of triumph. “It is the Statesman with the last of Asgard,” he said. “My people have come!”

And he strode off down the hill towards the meadow, calling Rocket and Groot with him in ringing tones.

“Oh, great,” Quill remarked sardonically from behind them. “More like _him_.”

A laugh started to rise, but was soon swamped in a wash of nausea.

“Oh, I think you’ll find Thor’s one of a kind.”

Maria barely heard Steve, too busy trying not to retch. _Not now, not now, not now..._

Gamora was looking her way, frowning. “What’s wrong? You’re looking unwell—”

“I’m fine...” The response was automatic, but she already knew— It wasn’t a faint – the world wasn’t spinning, but there was a growing twist in her belly. “I’m not—”

“Maria—”

She sucked in a breath as an arm slipped around her back and Steve picked her up in his arms as Gamora called for a medic.

_Protect and defend Earth from any and all threats to its autonomy and independence..._

Pain clutched like a fist gripping her insides.

_...whatever the cost._


	22. Part Six: To All Things An Ending

The Wakandans had a pregnancy expert on the field within minutes – a middle-aged former Dora Milaje who was calm and careful and brisk and kind, and used a specialist scanner to look Maria over in one of the field medical suites that the Wakandans were setting up all across the battlefield to deal with the injured.

"You aren't losing the child," said Jamila briskly. "Not yet. But you have doubtless been through much in the last day - as have we all - and it seems your body is issuing you a warning notice. Your electrolyte levels are low and your endocrine levels are up. Your red blood cell count is far below what it should be, and you need rest because you have not had enough and your body cannot cope with the demands you are putting on it as well as the demands that pregnancy is putting upon you." Black eyes pinned Maria. "You must change your ways if you wish to have this child, unless you do not wish the child, in which case there are cleaner and simpler ways to deal with the pregnancy than deliberately running yourself into the ground."

The no-nonsense pronouncement was exactly what Maria needed to hear. She was struggling enough with having everyone aware of the pregnancy – from the fact that she was pregnant at all, to that Steve was the father – without having to contemplate that she’d _have_ to have the child.

Still, it was...reassuring to know that she wasn’t miscarrying.

Even if Maria was starting to have suspicions about why she wasn’t miscarrying.

She had a dim memory of a red haze surrounding her as Steve picked her up, like an insulating blanket between her and reality for a split-second, before it faded away. A moment later, the agonising cramps had eased back to merely painful, and then slowly faded over the next few minutes. She'd been a little dizzy, still breathless after the pain had subsided, and not entirely sure if the reddish tint had been a hallucination brought on by by the pain of the cramps...or something else.

She didn’t have time to ponder it now, because Jamila was handing her a bottle of drink and speaking to her in brisk, blunt tones. “If you wish to end the pregnancy, then the sooner it is done, the easier it will be on you. And if you require medical care for that purpose, then I am prepared to assist.”

"I don't..." She hesitated, uncertain. _Did_ she want to keep the child? "I should talk to...the father."

No scorn for that statement, no shaming for not being certain. Jamila simply nodded. "That's probably best, then.” She tapped a control unit on one side of the medical suite, turning the walls of the medical screen transparent, and unsealing the soundproof shield that kept what was spoken of inside the suite private. A brace of Wakandans were waiting and ready to take the unit and deploy it out on the battlefield for the many wounded Wakandans still there. And, seeing Jane and Najira standing nearby, Maria began to rise from the couch—

“No. Stay,” said Jamila, putting a hand on her shoulder and pushing her back down. “There are other couches that can be used. If it’s needed later, it will be requested of you.”

Maria thought about arguing that she didn’t need the couch, took one look at the older woman’s gaze, and decided it was better not to. “Thanks.”

“Thank me by looking after yourself!”

"So," Jane asked dryly, "I guess everything is okay?"

"Yes. I’m fine."

Jane looked at Jamila for confirmation, which Maria rather resented.

"She will keep the child if she so chooses, but what she needs most of all is rest." Jamila was brisk about it.

Jane rolled her eyes. "Well, yes, good luck with that." She plonked herself down next to Maria. “You should probably be warned. Stephen was going to bring the others back from Titan, and while Okoye managed to hustle most of the Avengers away to do some quick follow-up stuff, so you’re not going to get much respite... Although at least you have the couch.”

The problem was that sitting down was not the way Maria wanted to face the others. She didn’t want to face the others at all, in fact, but that wasn’t an option.

It especially wasn’t an option since Strange had brought Parker and Tony and the rest of the Guardians back to Earth, which meant dealing with questions and demands and more questions. Although, the timing was perfect, since the tasks Okoye and the Wakandans had set for the Avengers got completed right around the same time and the two groups met each other on the way in...

It got busy.

Very busy.

There were people _everywhere,_ it seemed – a reunion of chaos and updates and questions.

It meant Maria could mostly avoid having to deal with Steve although part of that was because Tony interrupted. He was, after all, Tony.

“Did Pepper know?” Tony demanded. “Because if she knew and was keeping secrets from me—”

“One, it wouldn’t have been her secret to tell and Pepper knows better than that,” Maria said sharply. “Two, nobody knew, Tony. Even I didn’t _know_ until a week ago.”

Yes, there’d been signs which she’d ignored, telling herself it was something else, she couldn’t be, it would go away – they’d been _careful_ , for God’s sake...

Only now, she had to deal with it – and with a lot more people knowing than she liked – and no chance to speak privately to Steve about the pregnancy. In part because there were people everywhere around, and in part because Maria was putting it off as long as possible. It wasn’t really a conversation they could just have here and now in the middle of everyone else. Well, they could, but she was choosing not to.

What Strange had done by pulling everything back to the point at which Thanos had wrecked the universe wasn’t erase the last year of time in reality as close it off so it wasn’t acknowledged by the rest of existence.

“It’s not so much a do-over,” Strange had said, “as a dead-end. Those of us who turned to dust were probably the luckiest – most won’t remember anything. Those who survived might have odd dreams and fancies, but most will fade to nothing more than distant memory and wild fancy.”

“And what about those who _will_ remember?” Maria asked, noticing the ‘probably’, the ‘most’, and the ‘might’.

“They’ll just have to live with the dichotomy.”

Strange’s smile was slightly pained. Maria almost asked what dichotomies he would have to learn to live with, then figured she didn’t want to know.

In effect, the Avengers and everyone who’d survived had lived an extra year of life.

They’d carried forward in grief and struggle, effort and pain, with despair and loss heavy on the hearts of everyone left behind. And in that aftermath of what Tony flippantly termed ‘The Snapture’, they’d formed bonds and connections that they still remembered, even if the events binding them together had never technically happened.

The questions Maria’d had for Steve while flying in the _Milano_ over the battlefield of Thanos’ planet were still there, stuck uncomfortably in her throat, like a mouthful of food she’d swallowed too fast.

It was the knowledge that he’d moved on and she hadn’t – that he’d had the _time_ to move on, when she hadn’t. It was the awareness that things were different now – even more different when they’d merely been broken up, or in two different realities.

But she couldn’t avoid him, even if the only words they’d exchanged so far had been, “ _Is it mine?_ ” and “ _Who else do you think it would be?_ ”

She doubted that Steve would dissociate himself from her pregnancy – that wasn’t who he was. Which meant that she would be dealing with him and anyone he’d become close to in that missing year – a third person who might end up being part of the parental mix for her child.

And Maria wondered.

She’d never kidded herself that she was good enough for Steve Rogers, whether or not he was Captain America. Men like him didn’t end up with women like her – everyone knew that. And war and crisis changed people and the way they looked at each other. It made people value things that they might not have given thought to before. And Steve and Nat had always been close and comfortable.

A child would complicate that – doubly so when Nat couldn’t have one herself, whether or not she wanted to be a mother. And maybe Maria was reading in things that weren’t there, but what she knew was that just about every other Avenger who knew her had checked in with her – even Bruce had coughed, blushed and mumbled his congratulations, while Rhodey had held her shoulders after the first congratulations and quietly asked, _You’re all okay with this, right?_ – but Nat hadn’t.

That was something to worry about later, Maria told herself as the conversations and catch-ups flowed around her. There were other things to worry about now.

Such as exactly what else she’d changed when she’d decided to make everything as it _should be_ , instead of as it _had been_.

It was Okoye who brought the news that the US President wished to speak with King T’Challa, Captain Rogers, and Mister Stark about ‘the Wakanda situation’ and ‘the Avengers situation’. Considering that Steve looked like he was about to demand Maria have The Conversation with him right now in front of everyone, she was glad of the interruption. At least, she’d been glad of the interruption until Okoye elaborated.

“According to the Secretary of State, the President is well aware that Wakanda is more than capable of dealing with the clean up and may not wish for further help, but she wished us to know that her administration stands ready to assist in any way that will ease the burden that presently lies disproportionately on Wakandan shoulders.”

Maria choked on the drink that Jamila had handed her to assist in replacing her electrolytes. “Wait... _her_ administration?”

Okoye paused, then considered. “Yes. _Her_ administration.”

“Am I going to get back to New York and discover that Pepper is the CEO of Stark Industries?” Tony asked. “Oh wait, _she already is._ ” He looked at Steve. “So are you going to moon over your pregnant girlfriend, Rogers, or are you going to come back into the Avengers fold?”

“He can’t do both?”

The mutter might have been Barnes, but was probably Sam.

Maria bit her tongue and refused to react.

“That depends on whether I’m going to have someone telling me what I can and can’t do in a crisis situation.” Steve’s tone was mild but there wasn’t any give to it.

Tony snorted and jerked his head at Maria. “You mean you don’t already?”

Steve looked towards her. “Leave me out of this,” Maria interrupted. She was not going to be used as leverage, especially not by Tony, and if he kept going then she was going to call Pepper and he’d have to deal with _her._ Plus, she could do with the reminder. “I’m just the ex-girlfriend.”

“The _pregnant_ ex-girlfriend,” Tony noted. “And I thought _my_ love life got awkward at times...”

“Shut up, Tony,” Rhodey muttered. He’d shed the Iron Patriot suit somewhere in the forest and was simply walking around in his prosthetic exoskeleton. “Come on, let’s go talk to the president. And hope that she likes you more than she did the last time you met in Congress.” The eyeroll he gave Maria spoke eloquently of their shared role for the last year, operating the Avengers on a shoestring rotation, keeping Tony in check while dealing with world security, and supporting Pepper as she tried to work out how she was going to live loving Tony in spite of his self-destructive instincts.

Maria rather thought she should start taking lessons from Pepper.

Steve set his shoulders and looked directly at Maria.

She forced herself to breathe normally – longing and uncertainty and conflict stabbing through her like a laser. Of all the men in the world, she’d had to be susceptible to _him_. And she’d never be free of that now.

“I have to go—” He hesitated. _And you’re going, just because he called..._ The words hung between them from that last bitter fight, nothing he could take back. “Promise me that we’ll discuss this, Maria – us, the baby, everything – before you do anything?”

She’d agreed, because it wasn’t as though she could say otherwise with everyone watching. And he’d half-turned to go, then turned back to press a kiss to her cheek, his lips soft against her skin, his beard silky against the corner of her mouth. And Maria held herself very still because she didn’t want to flinch away from him, but neither did she want to lean into him like everything was okay now that they’d saved the world and made a baby.

That wasn’t who she was – had never been – and Steve had known that from the start.

The problem between them wasn’t the _wanting;_ the problem between them was their expectations.

And, now there’d be another human being stuck dealing with those expectations – dealing with them and their issues.

For Maria that was an excellent reason for an abortion right there.

 _You said I called you every time._ Nick had rasped through blood and steel. _But you always answered._

She’d had no-one else to answer to then.

Now she did. She could give the child she was carrying the right to demand her loyalty in a way that nobody else should ever co-opt. And that was terrifying – and then some.

In the meantime, she’d promised not to do anything until they’d had that discussion, and there were other, more pressing matters to deal with.

Thor returned, jubilant from greeting his people and seeing who was still alive aboard the ship that Loki had brought through – the _Statesman_. He gained assurances from T’Challa and Okoye that the Asgardians could stay in Wakanda for a little while – until they could work out a more permanent solution for settlement. Then he took Bruce Banner – or possibly the Hulk since Maria wasn’t entirely sure which one the Asgardians actually knew, if not both – and gone back to help his people.

Not the Prince of Asgard anymore, but the King.

Nat had vanished with Barnes, presumably headed after Tony, T’Challa, and Steve; and Ayo and Okoye were dealing with the chaos that the country was in – their border shields were still down and their injured needed assistance, even if the aliens and their ships were gone.

How Maria had managed to ‘fix’the universe while leaving several thousand injured Wakandans injured was probably going to be one for later recriminations.

In the meantime, there were other matters that needed managing. Big matters.

Maria started with Thanos’ empire and his armies.

She’d dissolved his warships, but not his body.

The glove lay dull and battered on his hand, empty of the stones that had adorned it. Save for the Mind stone, which had appeared in a remade Vision’s forehead, they had gone to the individuals who claimed mastery of them.

Including the Soul stone, which was tucked into the inside cup of Maria’s bra.

If it was a slightly awkward place to reach for it, it was also comforting to have the pulse of it just above her heart.

Standing over the corpse lying in the Wakandan leaf litter, Maria considered that maybe she should have been a bit neater when cleaning up his armies. She hadn’t even known she’d made the decision to leave the body here until a Dora Milaje dragged her back to the glade and demanded to know what the alien blood would do to the soil.

Maria had no idea, but she didn’t think it was toxic.

Maybe?

More difficult to explain was her reasoning for leaving the body, which she then had to justify not only to the annoyed Dora Milaje but also to Thanos’ daughters. They’d learned stoneface in a school of hard knocks, and simply stared at her as she pointed out that being able to produce his body was a kind of proof that he was actually dead, and might provide a kind of...legitimacy.

“Legitimacy?” Gamora asked, as though the word was dirty.

“That you have a right to his empire.”

“ _I am Groot!_ ”

She didn’t look at Groot and the other Guardians who were ranged up behind Gamora – the tree had a point – but she was going somewhere with this, and it wasn’t to him that she needed to make the appeal. “They don’t _have_ to take over his empire, but...it’ll help when it comes to the division of his territory.”

“Why would _we_ divide up his territory?” Nebula growled. “That’d be the others...”

Then she stopped and looked at Gamora, who was still staring narrow-eyed at Maria.

“He never had a plan of succession,” Gamora said slowly. “At least, nothing he ever spoke of to me. He might have planned something with the others...”

“Not when it gave them the idea that he might be mortal.”

“So there’s no-one next in line?” Maria held Gamora’s gaze, knowing that the other woman had already seen where she was going. “Good. That means the other generals of his armies will try to claim his territories for themselves.”

“Oh, and that’s _good_?” Quill asked sarcastically. “So instead of just one Thanos, we have a bunch of baby Thanoses – Thanii? – running around fighting each other...”

“They’ll be fighting each other for control of his territory,” Gamora said, turning her head a little to speak to her lover, but not taking her eyes from Maria’s face. “They’ll be destroying each other in the name of their own power. Thanos might have made us who we were, but he couldn’t make us _like_ each other.”

Now she looked at Nebula, almost warily, as though expecting her to lash out. After a moment, Nebula almost smiled, the stiff, angry expression softening fractionally.

“If you want to take an empire apart,” Maria said, opting not to comment on the sisters’ interaction, “you parcel it out in portions to equally strong contenders and let them fight each other over the remains. That’s how empires usually fall.”

“Empires?” Sam inquired. “Or organisations?”

“Either-or,” Maria retorted. “Or all of the above. Look, I couldn’t care less who takes over Thanos’ empire – or even if Nebula or Gamora want a part of it. What I’m seeing is the big picture from the view of one of Thanos’ generals: Thanos and his armies came to Earth and they died here. That paints a target on us, and sooner or later, we’ll be dealing with the aftermath. Any time we can buy – anything that will cut down what we’ll be facing when Thanos’ generals find out – is an advantage, and we have to take it. So yes, it’s self-serving; because we don’t yet have a setup in place that can deal with a threat from space.”

“Yet.”

“Yes, yet!”

There was a moment of silence. Then Drax turned to Sam and asked, “And the big, maned warrior had sex with her? He has more courage than I gave him credit.”

Maria went hot and cold all over as Jane made a wheezing noise, and Gamora choked.

Sam quirked a grin at Maria. “Always thinking ahead.”

“I can’t _not—_ ” Maria sighed. Sam knew what she was. The fact that he was teasing her for it was annoying but manageable. She looked at Gamora. “But I’m right, aren’t I? Thanos’ more obsessive generals are likely to come after Earth?”

“Yes...” Gamora surveyed the body like it was something she’d just vanish if she could.

“I’ll take it back,” Nebula offered after a moment. “They already hated me, and I’m not associated with anyone from Earth.” She looked at Maria. “I can get you a year at least, maybe a couple. After that...” Her laugh grated. “After that I don’t know if I’ll even be alive. The others never liked me. I never gave them reason to.”

“None of us ever liked the others,” Gamora said grimly. “He didn’t _want_ us to like each other.”

“A year will be enough time,” Maria said. “Nick had...a contact from a long time ago. He tried to contact her when everything...went bad the first time. I still have the device,” _maybe_ , “And we’ll bring her in, get her advice on what might keep a Thanosian army from descending on Earth.”

“Thanosian?” Rocket asked. “Is that a made-up word?”

“It’s whatever you want to make of it,” Maria told him, but watched Nebula to check that the other woman was on board.

She wished she had something more to offer her. The woman would be putting her hand into the monster’s mouth for the sake of Earth and – as she’d already pointed out – she’d never had any association with them or humans, other than Quill, who surely wasn’t a particularly stellar example of the type. But Nick had taught her to use whatever came to hand, to take offers at face value, and to fight with everything she could lay hands upon. If Nebula was willing to buy earth some time, Maria was not about to argue her out of it.

After a moment, Nebula nodded. “I can do it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll go, as well,” Gamora offered. “We can confuse the matter enough that we might buy Earth some space.”

“Any extra time is appreciated,” Maria told them, and mentally marked one more thing off her list.

Lists were good. Lists meant she didn’t have to think about the baby, about Steve, about Nick and what she’d done to him – at his bequest, maybe, but still what she’d done.

Yanking the spear out had been the most horrific experience of her life. She’d killed from behind a gun before, but feeling the blade grate on bone and God only knew what else was sickening. Doing it to the person who’d made her what she was?

_He knows what I am – or he should. I’ve sacrificed him twice already._

At least there’d be no second sacrifice with Nick... And then she remembered that Gamora had come back after being sacrificed, so maybe Nick could, too?

One more thing on the list. It never ended.

“So we’ve bought Earth some time. Great,” Rocket said. “Now can we go somewhere in this place where my eye-level view isn’t full of dead asshole?”


	23. Chapter 23

The Dora Milaje had set up this section of the wood so the more alien-looking Guardians could walk around openly without either having to disguise, or else having to dodge attention. Looking at it, Maria reflected it was probably also so nobody would stumble across the dead purple warlord – the only visible casualty of the battle that had rent the landscape beyond the forest edge.

The Wakandans would have a big clean-up ahead of them; maybe it was just as well that the President had offered assistance.

“Fainting couch glade is still available,” Sam noted. “Let’s go back there.”

Maria glared at him. “It’s not a fainting couch.”

“Whatever,” he said, taking her arm and directing her towards that section. “It has space to talk and no dead Thanos. And a couch, fainting or not.”

Maria detached her arm from Sam’s attempt to direct her – she was not going to be herded in this. Especially not when Natasha and Barnes were standing at the glade, looking for all the world like they were waiting for the group.

“I’m pregnant,” she muttered acidly as they approached the duo, “not sick or injured.”

She’d hoped to be quiet enough that the two wouldn’t hear, but from the way Nat suddenly smirked, she gathered she hadn’t been quite quiet enough.

Barnes made a noise in his throat. “You’re stubborn is what you are,” he drawled, almost casually. “Which makes you a match for Steve at least.”

Maria ignored this and swept past him. More comforting was the way Nat rolled her eyes as she caught Maria’s gaze.

“I spoke to Clint,” she said. “He called, asking what had happened, so...I told him. About you. About Nick. He wants to know more about that. So do I. But it can wait.”

It would have to. World security – and, more, the future plans for Earth – needed attending to now, while everything was still fresh in their heads. While everyone was still remembering what had happened – what hadn’t happened – what had nearly happened...

Maria gave up on trying to find a verb tense that worked.

Although sheer pettiness almost had her insisting on a stand-up meeting. But Jane sat down on the couch with Najira next to her, and the two of them looked expectantly at Maria. She was 99% sure that it was peer pressure, but she sat anyway. It was easier than arguing.

“So,” said Sam, “now that we’re sitting ducks, can you get in touch with Fury’s contact to help boost Earth’s defences if necessary?”

“Yes. She’ll want to know about Nick in any case.”

“Carol can get in line,” said Natasha lightly. “And if she remembers the last year the way we do, then she’ll come to find out what happened anyway.”

There was movement at one of the entrances to the space, and Strange walked up and into the glade. “Ah,” he said briskly. “The discussion about Earth. Excellent. So, something that needs thinking about more immediately is what we’re doing with the Infinity stones.”

Behind him, Wanda and Vision paused by a huge tree trunk, Wanda’s gaze resting thoughtfully on Nat, while Vision’s gaze flicked over the people present. Did his gaze rest a little longer on the people who’d ‘mastered’ the stones, or was that just Maria’s imagination? And when his eyes met Maria’s, there was acknowledgement of what she’d and Nick had done, accompanied by a wave of compassion and understanding.

 _I asked the same of Wanda,_ she felt him say through the thread of connection that had formed when Wanda had ceded the Mind stone to Maria, and which she hadn’t yet taken back. _And although that burden isn’t hers to carry anymore, I understand what it cost her – and you._

Maria swallowed back the lump in her throat, closed her eyes to give the sudden aching well of tears in her eyes a moment to dissipate before she turned her attention to the discussion about the stones.

“You can’t keep them all on Earth,” Nebula said harshly. “They’re collectively too powerful to be left in proximity with each other.”

“We’ve had several of them on Earth for the last few years,” Jane objected. “In the case of the Tesseract, it’s been here for hundreds of years.”

“The Eye of Agamotto has been on Earth since the mid-13th Century,” Strange offered. “But we’ve only had, at most, two stones on Earth: the Tesseract and the Eye, until Loki came with the sceptre – the Mind stone. Then Thor took the Tesseract back to Asgard, but the sceptre was still here. So we still had only two stones on Earth.”

“At least until this afternoon.” Sam noted, his eyes steady on Maria

“But now we are six,” said Strange.

Nat spoke. “So maybe the question is: what do six infinity stones do to a place – or a person?”

“I’ve seen what five do,” Barnes offered. “So have Hill and Maximoff and Strange. It wasn’t pretty.”

“You were operating the glove without the Soul stone and without realising what it would do to you in the process.” Strange interposed. Maria reflected that if that was a concession, it sounded more like a criticism. Then again, this was Strange. “In addition to which the five of us with mastery over the stones hadn’t ceded the power of them over to you, so the burden of use was even more corrupting.”

Barnes’ eyes narrowed as he looked at Strange.

“This conversation is creating a whole lot more questions than it’s answering,” Rocket complained seating himself in a clump of ferns. “So you got six stones. Fine. We’ll keep Power and head on out of here – problem solved, you’re down one. Oh, and isn’t one of them related to Quill? So that’s two out of your hair – you’re golden!”

“We’re not keeping the Power stone!” Quill said flatly. “We’re taking it back to Xandar.”

“Because the Xandarians did such a great job of looking after it in the first place.”

“They took it and didn’t use it.”

“They lost it to Thanos!”

“ _I am Groot_.”

“What? No!” Rocket waved a finger at Groot. “We talked about this, remember? It was better for all the galaxy that we held onto it for safekeeping!”

“ _I am Groot_!”

“The Power stone should go back to Xandar,” said Drax authoritatively. “They were useless in protecting it against Thanos, but it was otherwise harmless in their keeping.”

Rocket sighed and sprawled back in the springy ferns, for all the world like a sulky child. “Can I at least have the shiny, shiny arm if I can’t have the purple gem?”

“You can try,” Maria managed to say it without laughing. Barnes’ expression was an absolute picture. “Although the shiny arm is probably the property of Wakanda, and if you take it, I don’t know what the Wakandan Crown will do...”

“Hunt you down,” said Najira promptly. “The vibranium was a gift of the goddess Bast to Wakanda. We do not permit just anyone to take it away.”

“And I can tell you what _I’ll_ do if you come for the arm,” said Barnes grimly. “ _Or_ my gun.”

“Eh, I like a little tussle...” It might have been a grin, but Rocket looked distinctly feral. Well, he _was_ a small furry creature in appearance – a small, _armed_ , furry creature...

“Boys,” Natasha said languidly. Both man and raccoon eyed each other narrowly before turning and presenting expressions of spurious innocence to her.

“Small point of fact,” Sam said, “Xandar’s the home of the Nova Corps that shot at you this morning, right?”

“They weren’t shooting! I said they didn’t have a firing solution!”

“That was them,” Maria said. “But I’m hoping that ‘otherwise harmless’ will be a point in their favour.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Then we have a first response team, Fury’s secret weapon, and at least three Infinity stones,” Maria said. “Because I doubt Loki will stay around on Earth – assuming that the Asgardians are even going to stay here.”

“Uh,” said Jane, brushing off her trousers. “So, about that being _three_ stones...”

Then she paused and looked towards a small rise that Maria couldn’t quite see over from her seated position. A moment later, Steve and T’Challa came walking back from their conference with the American President. Behind them, Tony was telling Peter Parker that in spite of the last year – or three days, whatever – joining the Avengers was a definite, hard ‘no’ until he was at least out of college.

“Not even part-time,” Maria said as Peter opened his mouth to protest. “Emergencies at best, and even then it would be something like, oh, half the universe being unmade.”

His shoulders slumped a little, but the disappointment was laced with acceptance. “Yes, Miz Hill.”

“Did you call your aunt?”

“Yes.” He straightened up. “She’s fine. And, uh, thanks, you know. For the talk and everything before. On the other side.”

“You’re welcome.”

Maria avoided Steve’s gaze entirely. She was reasonably sure he wouldn’t make a scene here – she hoped not. There were too many things still to be done, and she couldn’t afford the time or the emotional breakdown at this moment. Maybe later, after they’d dealt with everything else. And T’Challa had the look of a man with an announcement to make. She might as well give him the moment and head off whatever it was that Steve wanted to confront _right now_.

“What did the President have to say?”

“All the things expected of a world leader,” T’Challa said wryly, glancing sideways as Okoye entered and crossed over to speak with Natasha. “She offered assistance in cleaning up Wakanda, both in personnel – which we refused – and in financial assistance – which we have left open should it come down to need.”

“Wakanda is hardly destitute,” Najira protested.

“Sometimes it is wise to keep doors open,” Okoye said, looking around from her murmured discussion with Nat. “Even if there is no intention to go through them.”

“The President also talked about it being a new era,” Steve said, nodding at the Guardians. “We’ve been thrown into the middle of a galaxy – or a universe – that’s entirely unknown to us. That provides opportunities for change and growth, but also means we’re small fish in a big pond.”

“It may take us generations to navigate the full consequences of what has happened here,” T’Challa agreed. “Not least of which is the death of a leader with many armies at his command, and generals whose attacks destroyed swathes of our cities as they tried to acquire our people.”

Maria was relieved to know that Vision was considered one of Earth’s own now. Especially considering the ‘former’ administration had tried to claim Vision was a ‘non-man’ because he wasn’t flesh and blood human, and then started prying into the nature of his relationship with Wanda. That one had been frustrating all the way; in the end they’d been forced to strike a deal with Thunderbolt Ross, which had involved Vision being tagged like a criminal. That had gone more than a little way to souring Tony on the Accords – not that he wasn’t already regretting it; just that this flipped it well into the red. The only reason he’d held his peace was because Pepper had pulled him back, and because Vision had been able to turn the tracker on and off at will – which absolutely nobody associated with the Initiative had let slip to the Special Committee tasked with monitoring the Avengers.

“She also wanted to know if we had the resources available to man a defence for Earth,” Steve added. “Situationally speaking, this would be the likeliest time for some other civilisation to swoop in and try to take us over.”

“Okay,” said Quill. “Earth? Is kind of a shithole. I mean, I come from here, so I should know. Nobody’s bothered making actual real contact here in, oh, hundred of years at least. I mean, sure, you get the occasional visitor coming by to pick up a ten year old kid they contracted to steal, but even the Asgardians – whose empire you technically belonged to – didn’t seem to want anything to do with you before this. Like, not even taxes! So, you know, I don’t think you’ve got that much to worry about...”

“Carol said the Kree empire came for us once,” Natasha said. And blinked when the Guardians turned to look at her.

“The _Kree_ came for you?”

“Nobody resists the Kree without being ground into the dust of their planet!”

“ _I am Groot_!”

“Apparently Captain Marvel – Carol – chased them off.” Steve said it with a little smile that faded. “She...there was a Kree scientist who was trying to use the Tesseract to create an energy source...”

“Like S.H.I.E.L.D should have been doing.” Tony’s snark cut like a knife.

“Well, this scientist was one of the good guys, but she died, and while trying to destroy her energy source, Carol ended up absorbing it...”

“There are no good Kree unless they are dead Kree,” Drax declared. “They destroy planets and cultures, and what they cannot conquer, they will try to tear down and destroy “

“So, basically, there’s a lot of big bad out there, and we need a new plan for the Avengers and world security...”

Sam snorted. “Stark, you’re way behind the eight-ball on this one. Maria’s already begun negotiations with Nebula and Gamora for taking down Thanos’ empire, and we were just discussing what’s happening with the Infinity stones.”

Maria shot him a quelling look. The smirk was classic Sam; saturnine and with that hint of smugness that could be at once utterly charming when it was turned on a person, and very frustrating when he turned it against them. And maybe Steve and the others had an extra year in which to deal with Tony and everything that had happened since the Avengers split, but those who’d been turned to dust by Thanos’ reconfiguration hadn’t had that opportunity.

It was going to be rough days ahead.

“Of course you were,” Tony said, sounding resigned. “Hands up everyone who’s shocked by the fact that Hill’s taken charge?”

Everyone stared at Peter Parker whose hand was raised. He lowered it slowly. “Uh, actually I just wanted to ask a question. Only I just remembered that I’m not in school and I don’t— Uh. And all I wanted to ask was...should Dr. Foster be glowing like that?”

Maria turned just in time to see the red aura around Jane vanish.

“What the hell?”

Jane’s eyes opened at Quill’s exclamation and although her irises were still hazel, Maria got the impression of endless dimensions, like the glimpse of a room full of mirrors, endlessly reflecting back at each other. She blinked, realising everyone’s gaze was on her.

“Jane?”

“So what I was trying to say before the whole thing with the President came up is...” She held her hands out a little to the side, like a preacher giving a blessing to a crowd. A bright red mist hazed around her, infusing her with an aura that seemed to pulse with what Maria realized was a heartbeat. “I seem to have connected with the Aether. Again.”

With a blink of her eyes, the trees around them turned bright blue, from trunks to twigs to leaves, and a wind rustled their branches, causing blue leaves to fall around them. A moment later, the trees turned back to their usual brown and green – but the blue leaves were still around them on the ground.

The sensation of endless mirrors refracting around Jane made Maria lean forward and catch her wrist. For a moment, she glimpsed possibilities curving away from them – thousands upon thousands – and nearly dropped Jane’s hand in the rush of it. She looked up at Jane. “How hard is it to stay in this reality?”

“Mostly, it’s not.”

“Mostly?” Maria was struggling not to get swept up, how was Jane resisting it?

Vision crossed the glade. “May I?” When Jane nodded, he touched his hands to either side of her temples, and Maria felt the pressure in and around Jane ease.

She let go of Jane’s wrist, but even so, the tangled sense of the Mind stone remained on the edge of Maria’s consciousness, gently spinning out questing tendrils, carefully tugging at the world around them as it sought an understanding of what was taking place – and a solution.

“Getting a little crowded around here,” Barnes muttered.

“No kidding,” Sam snorted. “That makes it four stones for Earth...”

Quill was staring at Jane with his eyes slightly narrowed. “I can still feel Reality, but...not like before. Look, are you _absolutely certain_ that you’re human?”

“Human father, human mother,” she said shortly.

“That’s what I thought, but my mom died of cancer, and my father turned out to be a Celestial.”

“Well, my mom died of cancer, too,” she said shortly, “but my dad was human – a scientist. Erik Selvig went to university with him—”

“What kind of cancer?”

Jane blinked, but apparently whatever Vision was doing to her didn’t require her full attention. “Brain cancer. Why?”

“My mom died of brain cancer as well – and my dad gave it to her, because he said he never would have left her if he hadn’t killed her..” Quill looked at Vision. “ _Is_ she human?”

“Wait,” Vision said, and the air around Jane and him was suddenly full of that same odd _depth_ that Maria had seen before. Then the red aura around Jane lessened, like something powering down. As Jane and Vision both closed their eyes, it hummed for a moment, then vanished with a pop. And the air was suddenly a lot clearer.

“The stones recognize integration with another being,” said Vision opening his eyes. “They must, or they would not accept what Dr. Strange has termed ‘mastery’ of them. And the Reality gem has possessed Dr. Foster before; albeit that time it lay quiescent for a while, without her conscious knowledge.”

Jane opened her eyes and exhaled.

“Are you okay?” Maria asked her.

“I think so.” Jane blew out a long breath and sat back down on the couch with a slightly shaky grin. “It’s a little scary to be handed that all on a platter – and this time, to actually _feel_ what’s happening to you as it’s taking place...”

“You can’t take it out of her?”

“The possession may be reversed, as was done once before. But I do not think it will hold.” The look Vision shot Jane held compassion and frank fact. “You will have to learn to live with what you have, what you are.”

“Did you see anything...weird inside her?” Quill asked, eagerly. “Did you look?”

“I did not,” Vision said firmly, although the gaze he turned upon Jane held an apology in it. “There is something in you that is...different. I did not look closer - you had not asked it and I thought it an unwarranted intrusion. But it may be nothing more than prior changes wrought in your previous possession by the Aether that allows your connection with Reality.”

“Humans can't hold infinity stones,” Quill said.

“Maria can,” said Jane promptly. “Are you going to ask her what her mother died of?”

“She died of me, actually,” Maria said with a thin smile. “In childbirth.”

“Oh,” said Quill, chastened. “Wait, in _America_?”

“Of course, in America.”

“Soul is different,” Vision said. “Soul is not about power or strength so much as responsibility and burden. About the choices made and the consequences of those choices.”

Maria rubbed her fingers together, but Nick's blood had vanished when Strange had transferred them back in time.

“Well, one of the consequences of this choice is that we're going to have four Infinity stones on Earth,” said Tony bluntly. “Which...let's be honest, we've had enough trouble with just two.”

“Really, just with one,” Strange pointed out coolly. “Because Time hasn't been a problem at all - just the Mind stone and the Space stone—”

“Which Loki now holds—”

“Okay,” Jane interrupted. “So, I can present you with one less thing to consider in all this at least. I'll leave Earth.”

“Leave Earth?” Maria asked, wondering if she'd misheard.

“I've wanted to see the galaxy ever since Thor landed in front of my Jeep.” Jane smirked. “Now's my chance!”

“Didn't you crash into him?” Tony asked, but was pointedly ignored.

“The Guardians can take me—”

“And I, also,” said Najira promptly. “Wakanda should be represented.”

Jane's smile was immediate and delighted. “Company is definitely welcome!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Rocket waved a hand from his ferny throne. “Let me remind you whose ship it is. We don't have room for freeloaders around here, you'll have to pay your passage.”

The women eyed him suspiciously. Najira snorted.“Now why do I think you've already got the payment worked out?”

The raccoon grinned toothily. “You get me that arm, and you've got passage for both of you. No arm, no passage.”

“Do you ever stop?”

Rocket barely glanced at Bucky. “No. Why would I?”

“We have the Milano,” Quill said. “It's back on...” He paused. “Okay, I don't know if it still exists, does exist, or doesn't yet exist... But if it does, then you can certainly—”

“Oh, no you don't,” Rocket said. “I want that arm and I'm going to get—”

Nebula made a noise like steam escaping a kettle. “I'll take them both!”

Everyone turned to look at her, and she sighed. “It will shut them up, at least for a while. And,” she added roughly, “you won't have to listen to them bickering all the time.”

“Hey!”

“We never—”

Jane laughed. “You might have to listen to _us_ arguing all the time instead...”

“I’ll just throw you out the airlock.”

“She is joking,” Mantis whispered, like a child relating an obvious ‘secret’. “Mostly joking.”

“But, Doc,” Steve radiated concern, “is the Reality stone safe in you? I heard that the last time it was burning you out. You had to go to Asgard to get fixed.”

“It’s not...” Jane hesitated. “This time is different. I can feel it and it’s not dangerous.”

“Not to you,” Tony pointed out.

“I don’t plan to use it, if I even could without destroying myself and my immediate location, but Vision has helped put some kind of...limit...in place? Like a feedback shunt?”

“It is temporary,” Vision said, “And tailored to Dr. Foster’s understanding of what she holds and how it may be used. It will change as you come to understand more about the Aether and its properties, and as you grow into the will and willingness to use it.”

Jane turned to Maria. “And I can go?”

“Am I your keeper?” Maria asked. “Although, since you’ve got the Reality stone, I’m not convinced any of us are in a position to stop you.”

Jane’s lashes drooped over her eyes as though she was concentrating on something that wasn’t quite in the world. “I think you could, with the Soul stone. But you’d have to really _want_ it...”

Which brought up an interesting set of questions around exactly what Maria could do with the Soul stone – and whether she wanted to do any of it at all.

“So, if Vision’s put a limit on Doc Foster’s ability to use the Reality stone – tailored to her understanding,” Sam asked, “can he do the same with the Tesseract? Because I’m not at all comfortable with Loki having free rein with an infinity stone.”

“Is anyone?” Rocket demanded. “Hey, Red Lady...”

Okoye turned and looked at him. Her look could have drilled through wood. “Yes, Rat creature?”

Rather than protest her term, Rocket just grinned. “Do you remember the conversation about edible things on Earth?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Do you remember the conversation about waking up with all your fingers and toes still attached?”

“Just checking.” The raccoon waved a paw. “Carry on, don’t mind us.”

T’Challa raised his eyebrows at Okoye, who just shook her head slightly at him and turned to Vision. Her question had, perhaps, a little more force than it might otherwise have had. “Is it possible that you might limit Loki’s power with the Tesseract?”

“Considering this is the second group of people he’s brought through a portal – and we weren’t too fond of the first set,” said Tony dryly. “I still have nightmares on occasion.”

As Vision’s gaze turned inwards, Steve looked at Strange. “There isn’t a space-time continuum when it comes to infinity stones?” A hint of humor touched his face.

“If there was, I’d have already initiated it in my favor.” The smile with thin and full of regret. “Each of the stones is highly individual – they all possess their properties and capabilities – and their drawbacks.”

“Not to mention whether it’s entirely fair to just take it off Loki because we don’t trust him,” Jane observed. “Yes, I am saying that.”

Peter Parker raised his hand again. “I was in New York when the Chitauri attacked – and I was just a kid; I didn’t have powers then. And I’m all for taking the Tesseract off him.”

Vision shook his head. “In the case of the Tesseract, it is a matter of intent, not one of knowledge or understanding. Loki may cause great damage in his mischief and the dictates of his nature, but the Mind stone’s comprehension of why he does it will not change the harm he causes...”

“Or dismiss what he’s already done” Steve added grimly. “Hundreds dead in New York and on the helicarrier alone. Not to mention Asgard and the other seven realms descended into war while he was impersonating Odin.”

He’d brought the lost Asgardian refugees through to Earth in a magnanimous gesture, so he wasn’t all casual disdain and superiority. But Maria knew better than to imagine this meant Loki would act honorably. After all, he’d been caught sneaking around not once, but twice in the shadow-verse – deception and lying for his own entertainment and gain was his hallmark, and to expect anything better from him would simply be setting up Earth to be trapped by him the next time.

It still felt wrong to move unilaterally against him, though.

Still, if they could set limits on Loki’s use of Space – the way Vision had set limits on Jane’s use of Reality – then they might be able to leave it with him. At least until they had alliances in place, could reasonably defend themselves against incursions – or until Loki stopped being such an occasional dick. So long as he didn’t misuse the stone – directly for his own gain or amusement, or in situations where his actions would deliberately hurt or kill others. Bringing through the Asgardians – a people who held good intentions towards Earth – was acceptable; bringing through the Chitauri was not. And rather than punishing him or imprisoning him...

Maria exhaled. Yes, they could do that. _She_ could do that. It wouldn’t be as much as she’d like to do, but doing exactly what she wanted wasn’t necessarily the right thing, either.

She pressed her hand against the Soul stone, and felt it pulse against her heart as she reached for the sense of the Space stone and told it— _T_ _his, this, this, but no more—_

The world flashed orange.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Chocolat (Main Title)_ by Rachel Portman

Maria started up from her seat. She’d been sitting in the Wakandan glade, perched on a field couch. Now she was in Nick’s office in the Triskelion, standing in front of the empty desk which was backlit by the panorama of a burning moon afire in the night skies of Vormir. It was the view from the promontory, the endless dunes lit by the scarlet gleam of unthinkable power slowly destroying the orbital body in the dark heavens.

A brief wave of nausea threatened again, grief and loss and exhaustion clawing at her again as she stared out of a pristine office where the blood on one’s hands was metaphorical rather than literally sticky on her fingers—

“I don’t get to choose the landscape,” said Nick from the lounge.

He was sitting in the couch facing the door, bare feet up on the coffee table. The downlights gleamed off the rim of a fortified wine glass, a book sitting dropped in his lap – it looked like a novel. If not for the office around them, he’d have looked like an elderly man in retirement, kicking back, resting his old bones, catching up on his reading.

There was an orange tabby sitting on the couch opposite him, reposing Sphinx-style, wearing a light blue collar with a tag on it.

Maria stared at it. It stared back at her.

“What’s a cat doing here?”

“It’s not a cat, it’s a Flerken.” Nick didn’t look up from his book. “And I’ve learned not to ask how Goose turns up anywhere. Rather like some people I know.”

“Am I going to turn up here every time I use the Soul stone?”

“Couldn’t say. _Are_ you going to turn up here every time you use the Soul stone?”

Maria thought of little girl Gamora, standing by the window with Nick, looking out at the Battle of Wakanda.

_Someone to take back with you._

Did that mean that someone else might someday be able to take Nick back with them?

“Are you going to be trapped in this place until someone else makes a sacrifice for the Soul stone at Vormir?”

“I hope not.” Now Nick looked up at her, and brandished the book. “But if so, at least I have reading to catch up on.”

“Gamora got out,” she said. “Maybe you could too.”

“I’m in no hurry. Like I said, I got reading to do. Drinking to catch up on.” He brandished the glass – probably a port. When her expression didn’t change, he sighed. “I knew what I was doing, Maria. I think of this as the payment. As hells go, I’ve seen worse.”

The jingle of metal tag against metal fastener tinkled in the air and they both looked at the lounge opposite Nick. The ‘flerken’ might have been called ‘Goose’ but it looked like a cat and it certainly washed its butt like a cat.

“Why here?”

“Hm. Good question. Complicated answer.” He scratched at a corner of his mouth. “You know how we thought it was Thanos sacrificing his daughter that got him the Soul stone?”

The non-sequitur gave Maria a moment’s pause. “It made sense at the time. The Red Skull told us it was sacrificing something you loved – a soul for a soul.”

Now, with the memory of the Vormir passage fresh in her mind, Maria wasn’t convinced.

Nick made a snorting noise. “Yeah, the Red Skull. You know, thinking people gained Soul through the sacrifice of someone they loved – which meant _he’d_ never have gotten hold of it himself since I doubt Schmidt ever loved anyone _but_ himself – was probably a nicer thought for him than the realisation that if he’d come for the Soul stone from the beginning, he’d probably have everything he’d wanted from the Tesseract and never got.”

“It’s all about Soul.”

Nick snorted. “Yeah that. What was that other song back in the 90s? Britpop spicy ladies, singing about ‘wanna-bes’.”

“ _Tell me what you want, what you really, really want_...” Maria said slowly. “And what Thanos wanted was...”

“To see himself as the hero of his story. The runt of the litter, the misunderstood visionary, the warlord who knew best for a universe that didn’t appreciate him, the father who had to sacrifice the daughter he loved even though she’d cruelly rejected him.” A shrug conveyed his disdain for Thanos’ vision. “Doesn’t have to be the most important thing, but I think it had to mean something in the context of what he was trying to do.”

“Killing his daughter made him tragic,” Maria murmured.

Nick’s mouth twisted. “And so he got what he really, really wanted.”

“I asked for everything to go back to what it should be.” She thought of the president. “I...may have some slightly different ideas about what ‘should be’ to some people.”

“Did those ideas involve dissolving half the population because you think it’ll make everything better, when destroying half the universe really just means leaving the other half a wreck?” Nick snorted. Then he shifted on the couch, like he was trying to make himself more comfortable. “Do you remember what you said to me and Pierce after the Madripoor coup all those years ago?”

Maria blinked, trying to remember that day – the first day she’d met Nick – the first day she’d encountered S.H.I.E.L.D. “I said a lot of things that day.”

“You told us that the city wasn’t there to fulfil US intelligence ambitions in South-East Asia. It was there for four million people to live out their lives with a leadership they trusted, who might be corrupt but at least were their own corrupt, and who wasn’t going to suborn them in the interests of American investors who were never going to set foot in the city, let alone care about how they lived their lives.”

Now Maria remembered. “Pierce accused me of behaving like I was their mom. Like it was wrong of me to think that these people had the right to live their lives out without strangers from out of nowhere taking over their city and their lives...”

“And you said that you weren’t their mother, but you’d stand for them anyway, because someone had to.” Nick arched an eyebrow. “You gave the World Security Council hell for unilaterally nuking New York. You gave _me_ hell when you found out about the proposal for the helicarriers and the focused targeting program. You fought tooth and nail for mitigating the Accords before Stark decided it would be a suitable pyre on which to immolate himself – and the Avengers while he was at it. You were willing to let me kill you to save the universe.”

“ _You_ let _me_ kill _you_ to save the universe. So it’s not _just_ me.”

Nick smiled, a little sardonic.

“You know, I was never a father. Not biologically, not emotionally. But I trained up S.H.I.E.L.D agents and more S.H.I.E.L.D agents and still more S.H.I.E.L.D agents. And you. But you had your own path set before you came to S.H.I.E.L.D, Maria. _Semper fi_ didn’t mean you had to get involved in Madripoor – there were other military personnel in the city who didn’t think it was any of their business to get involved.”

“Someone had to get involved.”

Looking back at it, it had been insane – confronting a brutal military dictatorship with nothing more than a handful of dissidents? But somehow – Maria still didn’t quite know how – she’d won.

“ _Someone_ didn’t. But you _did_. When I asked why you joined the Marines with a vision like that, you said...”

“‘ _There was nothing for me if I stayed where I came from_ ’.”

“You were trying to find something that was worth your focus. But you were finding yourself at the same time.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Nick Fury?” It was only half-joking. This had the slightly creepy feel of a S.H.I.E.L.D headshrink’s psychoanalysis of her psyche. There’d doubtless been more than few of them that had passed Nick’s desk on her way up through the ranks of S.H.I.E.L.D, but they’d never talked about it.

“The triple chocolate mousse in the Hong Kong Peninsula high tea is unsurpassed according to Lian,” he answered, using an old question-passphrase from S.H.I.E.L.D days. “It’s just that being dead gives you time to think.”

“Reminiscing about ‘the good old days’?”

“Well, you have to know where you’ve been to have an idea of where you’re going.” Nick set the glass down and heaved himself to his feet, coming around the couch to approach the desk. He was still barefooted, but other than that he looked as he always had – black trousers, black turtleneck, black eyepatch. But rather than taking his seat behind the desk, he paused at the side of the table. “What do _you_ want, Maria? Only what you’ve always really wanted – the safety and security of the people you’ve decided are yours. You did it with Madripoor. You did it with Helsinki and in Cuba. You did with when you were in the Marines and when you joined S.H.I.E.L.D and when you started working world security with the Avengers. Now you’ve done it with infinity stones.”

The phrasing was wry, and Maria found a reluctant smile touching her mouth. “Can I get that on a t-shirt? ‘ _I’ve done it with Infinity stones_ ’?”

“They even have meetings on Tuesdays. But the only other member of that group would be Thanos.”

Amusement vanished.

“His generals will come for us.”

“Probably. And we'll do what we always have – work out a way to make it work for us.”

“But not with the Avengers.”

He tilted his head at her. “You got ideas about that?”

“Ideas, yes.” She wasn't sure she was ready to put them into action. “The world's changed a lot since you came up with the Avenger Initiative.”

“I hear some of that's your fault.” Nick quirked an eyebrow at her. “ _Make everything as it should be_?”

“For a fairly broad definition of 'should',” she defended.

“Not a perfect world of perfect people, or even a perfect number of people. Just people, making their own stupid choices, doing their own stupid things. And someone standing for them when they don't know that they need to stand for themselves.”

Maria looked at the desk, seeing it as she'd always seen it. Not a goal – not somewhere that she wanted to be or a rank she wanted to achieve – but a thing that she had to do, that she _wanted_ to do, that needed to be done. She couldn't save the world the way some people could, and she didn't need to. She just needed to protect it with everything she had.

“What I really want,” she murmured.

“To protect and defend...with or without the big guns.”

“Although the big guns help...”

Nick smirked down at her. “They sure do. Now,” he said conversationally, sticking his hands in his pockets, “I could tell you to be careful, but...”

Noise and babble around her, Gamora's hands closing gently around her own, dark eyes concerned as she looked into Maria's eyes. A faint orange cast shone across their faces – the Soul stone’s light undimmed by the layers of Maria’s clothing.

“Maria?”

“You don't need to,” she murmured, and took a deep breath, looking around.

“You stood up and started glowing orange,” Gamora explained. “Given it’s the Soul stone, we thought it best that I should be the one to check that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” The response was automatic. “But he’s still there.”

“I know.” Gamora’s expression was understanding. “He’ll be there until you let the stone go.”

_Am I going to turn up here every time I use the Soul stone?_

How many more times would she use it? Would it grow easier with every use?

Murmuring voices rose from halfway across the clearing, Steve and Nat and Barnes and T’Challa. Steve had his hands on Nat’s shoulders like he was putting her out of the way. Barnes was on Nat’s other side, the vibranium hand hard up against Steve’s chest, while T’Challa’s claws bit lightly into the shoulder of Steve’s suit. Steve’s expression was angry and regretful as he said something to Nat. Barnes’ gaze flicked from them to T’Challa, and then to Maria.

Their gazes clashed.

_Perhaps there is a personal reason the White Wolf will not take up arms until battle is required of him. Yet I find myself comforted in the knowledge that the White Wolf has bound himself to limits of his own choosing..._

She wanted to protect Earth. She had the Avengers. She had Wakanda. She had Strange and his sorcerous friends. And now she had Jane and Quill and the Guardians of the Galaxy. Maybe someday soon she’d have Carol Danvers, the original Avenger.

Maria Hill didn’t need another Infinity stone to protect Earth.

She could do anything with the Soul stone, and she could become a monster with it. Or she could bind herself with limits of her own choosing.

And letting it go it would set Nick free.

She didn’t need to fish the Soul stone out of her bra, a single thought brought it to hover in the air between her and Gamora, pulsing faintly with her heartbeat.

A thought struck her then. “If Thanos had let it go, we wouldn’t have been able to stop him.”

“Maybe.” Gamora looked into her eyes. “He wasn’t capable of letting it go.”

Thanos’ quest, once done, was done. That was all he’d been in the end.

Maria’s task would need doing and doing and more doing.

But she wouldn’t need Soul to do it; she already _had_ the soul of what she needed.

Maria reached between them and closed her hand around the stone, feeling it press into her palm, warm and hard and tinged with an aching sense of longing – things that were wanted, things that could be had, things that could be achieved.

And the price she’d paid to have it—

She was yanking the blade from Nick's chest. She was holding his bloody turtleneck and his fading gaze. She was trusting that this was what he wanted - what he really, _really_ wanted.

To protect and defend Earth with whatever they had, no matter the cost.

_If you love something, set it free..._

For a moment, she thought she heard Nick snort.

Opening her fingers, she watched the Soul stone pulse for a few moments before it dissipated in a susurrus of sparkling dust that rose on the wind and carried up to the sky, until there was nothing of it left.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Angel On The Wing_ by Rupert Gregson-Williams

There was still work to be done, although Loki and the Space stone could be safely taken out of their calculations.

“I put limits on the use of the stone,” she told them. “The way Vision did for Jane. If he uses Space to knowingly hurt others, then he’ll lose it. He can find it again, but he’ll spend a long time looking – and it’ll get longer every time after that. It was the best I could do.”

“It is kinder than he deserves,” said Okoye with a nod.

“So who’s going to tell him that he can’t just run around the galaxy commanding people to kneel before Loki of Asgard, come in glorious power?” Tony asked. “Please let it be me!”

“Pretty sure no-one’s going to fight you for the privilege, Tony,” said Rhodey mildly. “Except maybe Parker.”

The Guardians appeared to be willing to take Jane and Najira out with them, although the details were still under negotiation. Quill seemed determined to take Jane to Xandar so the Xandarians could see if she had the same genetic material as him floating in her DNA, and the others were mostly humoring him.

The Asgardians were probably going to settle off-world; Earth didn’t have space for them, and while the Wakandans were willing to let them rest here temporarily, there was strong opposition to settlers coming in and making Wakanda their home.

Not exactly a surprise, that.

And then Tony dropped the bomb, as Tony was wont to do.

“All right. I guess this part’s mine since Rogers doesn’t approve. One thing that the President discussed in our little conference earlier was the possibility of a new World Security deal. Apparently she’s had conversations with her counterparts in other countries, and wants it to be developed with the active intention of dealing with contacts from outside the planet now that we know they’re there, and they know that we’re here. Of course, it involves the Avengers, Stark Industries expertise, and Wakandan technology – with some reservations – and would be willing to take advice from humans with experience of other planetary civilisations and what’s happened out in the systems beyond ours.” He looked at Quill. “You could probably charge expenses, although not on anything that Rocket bought.”

“Spoilsport,” muttered Rocket.

“ _I am Groot_ ,” sniggered Groot.

Tony ignored the peanut crowd, looking back at Maria. “The thing that the President figured would make or break the deal would be the coordinator. She’s wrong, because we’re all about the defence of Earth, although we choose to do it differently,” he looked pointedly at Strange and at Steve, but neither deigned to respond to him. “Her initial suggestion was Nick Fury - until we explained the situation. Our counterproposal – that is, _my_ counterproposal – was you. And once she realized that T’Challa was okay with this, the President was entirely on board.”

Maria looked to T’Challa who nodded. “We would accept your experience and knowledge.”

One glance at Steve showed him thin-lipped and hard-eyed. She forced herself to look back at Tony.

“Does the President know I’m pregnant, Tony?”

“It might have been mentioned.” Tony said, looking pointedly at Steve. “Of course, then she noted that we weren’t living in the 1950s, and that pregnancy and motherhood hasn’t slowed down the Prime Minister of New Zealand. _Then_ she added that as forward-thinking a country as Wakanda with a body of paramilitary security like the Dora Milaje would certainly have a working maternity template to work off. Which,” he said with a quirk of his mouth, “T’Challa promptly confirmed.”

“The position would be jointly appointed by the bodies involved in carrying out World Security,” T’Challa said, “and ratified by the UN Special Taskforce on World Security.”

Maria snorted. “And if they don’t ratify a candidate?”

“The ratification is a political process, not an operational one,” the gleam in his eye was all the political acumen of generations of Wakandan diplomacy, laying low and pretending to be 'dead'. Maria distrusted it immediately. “So if we have chosen you as our candidate, and you tell us not to go, we do not go.”

“If I told you not to go when there was a situation needing your assistance, you’d ignore me and go anyway.” Looking around at the people in the glade, Maria snorted. “All of you would!”

“And you _know_ that and at least wouldn't stand in our way, which is why you’d do a helluva lot better than Thunderbolt Ross,” Rhodey reminded her, wryly. “Who was the President’s _third_ option.”

“Anyone would think she wanted us to pick Maria,” Tony quipped.

“Of course,” Rhodey said tactfully, “if you don’t want the job...”

“If I don’t _want_ the job...?”

Steve cleared his throat.

It was disturbing how all the participants – even Tony – paused.

“They’ve put the job offer out there as the President asked. But you promised me a conversation before, Maria, and I want that conversation now. We can do this with or without an audience, and I’d prefer without, but I’ll take it either way.”

“ _Uh-oh_ ,” Tony sang, not quite under his breath.

They took a walk. Some discussions needed privacy – and Maria wanted a walk.

She wanted to see what they’d done to Wakanda – properly, with time to study it, not just glimpsed while doing other things.

They headed out towards the edge of the wood, on the fringes of the plain where the battle had taken place, and climbed a slow hill from the gully, up to where they could see the battlefield with the city in the distance, and the _Statesman_ parked on the same swathe where the alien Q-ships had so recently been.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was dipping down towards the horizon, swiftly lengthening the shadows.

There were work groups already out in the fields, tiny clusters of figures in light gear, going about and repairing the damage to the land, scooping out soil tainted by alien blood with machines that carefully deposited the soil into waiting trucks for removal.

Something else Maria hadn’t thought about when she ‘cleaned up’ the alien army: not just the wounded living, but the battle’s alien taint on Earth. And she should have known – hadn’t she spent a week overseeing the clean-up of New York in the summer of 2012?

Focusing on the damage to the countryside in front of them meant she could dull her awareness of Steve as he came to stand beside her, looking at the Asgardian camp being set up on the hill.

“T’Challa doesn’t want the Asgardians to stay in Wakanda,” Steve said, sounding almost normal as he spoke. “They were happy to take Bucky, but an entire refugee population is apparently too much.”

“They’re wary. With good reason.” Maria thought of Nick during that first visit to Wakanda, of the quiet envy and anger in his eyes when he saw everything they’d done without the burden of skin color and the sting of an enslaved history. She’d kept in the background during that visit, aware that she was an intruder at best, a ‘colonizer’ – someone who came with a mentality of superiority and arrogance – at worst. Just as Nick was judged by his skin color in America and had to rise above it, Maria had been judged by hers in Wakanda and required to prove she wasn’t the enemy. Yes, she’d resented it, but she’d understood the reasons.

“Carol said that she settled some refugees – non-human ones – the last time she was here.”

“Nick contacted her – he didn’t know if it had gone through or not. Not until we came back from Thanos’ planet.” Maria’s throat tightened. “She’ll want to know what happened to him.”

“They were friends.” Steve hesitated. “I’m sorry for reacting so badly when Fury called you. I... Bucky said he died defending you from the Red Skull...”

“Yes, he did.” She swallowed down the ache in her throat. 

Steve looked as though he was trying to find words, then quieter and more stiffly, he added, “We didn’t always agree or like each other…but I’m sorry about his death.”

“It hasn’t sunk in yet,” she said after a moment. “I mean, I know it’s done. I know I did it. But...it feels...distant. Like it happened to someone else in another place...”

“It’s only been a day.”

A bubble of laughter pushed at her throat, hysteria threatening her composure. “This whole thing has only been a couple of days. For us, anyway. For you…”

“For us, it was a year and more. Strange said it would feel begin to feel dreamlike after a while…” His voice roughened. “It doesn’t yet.”

The temptation to reach out to him was strong. Maria was stronger.

Steve exhaled. “So…when did you know you were pregnant?”

“Only after…afterwards. Once we were on the other side. Before that...” Twinges, discomfort, a missed period – but she was stressed. Feeling queasy in the mornings, tired and hot, and her breasts tender when she put on her bra. “I suspected before that, but I didn’t want to know. I’d been planning to see a doctor but kept putting it off...”

“We were careful.” He glanced at her and the gleam of a smile echoed on his mouth. “Mostly.”

“It only takes once.”

“I know.” The smile faded. “What did you want to do now?”

She thought about standing in the ruins of Titan facing the Xandarian Nova Corps down with only Quill and Jane to protect her. The sickening cost of calling a retreat on Cadercka. The bitter understanding of the sacrifice the Soul stone required. Nick’s lifeblood pulsing out beneath her hand.

Standing in a Wakandan forest, battling for control of something that meant her life and her child’s life and half the life in the universe, against someone who’d known exactly what he was and what he was meant to do. Although, in the end, she’d reached for exactly what she was and had always done – over and over and over.

Maybe that was why she’d won against Thanos: because she was only doing what she’d done before.

“I want to do what I’ve always done,” she told Steve. “Protect and defend the Earth from all threats to its autonomy and independence whatever the cost.”

“And if the cost is our child?”

“Then that’s the cost of protecting the Earth.” Maria swallowed back resentment that he would use that against her, even if she’d expected it, even if she knew how the argument went. She reached for that moment when she’d seen Nick capitulate: _It’s what we do_.

Did Steve have it in him to understand? She didn’t know. But she had to try – for the world’s sake and their child’s sake, if not for hers.

“I was supposed to die at Vormir, you know. In exchange for the Soul stone. That was how we planned it.”

“What? And Fury was okay with that?”

“Not really. But he saw that there weren’t any other options.”

“Except there was.”

Maria looked out across the scarred battlefield. It looked like work crews were already headed out to repair the damage to the land, tiny clusters of people working around the great gashes that marred the landscape. “We didn’t know that at the time.”

“But you knew about the child.”

“Yes.” The laugh burst out of her, bitter and tired. “What would you have had me do, Steve? Thanos sacrificed a daughter to gain the Soul stone at Vormir – that was the entirety of the intel we worked from. We had a glove but no Soul stone, and Bucky...”

“What about Bucky?”

“Bucky got the glove on Cadercka – Thanos’ planet. But Strange saw the future in which Bucky kept using the glove to get the Avengers out of there – and it drove him as crazy as Schmidt.”

“Strange saw it?”

“And showed it to us.” Maria shook her head and focused on the point. “We had a glove with five stones but no Soul; we needed Soul. We saw the opportunity for it, and we took it. The child—”

“ _Our_ child!”

“—didn’t factor in when weighed up against half the universe.” And there were other considerations – it hadn’t been a _child_ then, just a concept in the shadow-lands of the other side. “I don’t calculate right and wrong the way you do, Steve. I’m not a hero.”

“But you saved the world.”

“Because someone had to, and I had all the cards.” She made herself look at him now, and found him staring moodily out at the field, perhaps so he didn’t have to see what she really was.

Maria had always known what she was; a nobody, unwanted, unnecessary, expendable. Very few people had seen what she was capable of, and only a handful had raised her up instead of pushing her down again.

For a while, Steve had been one of them.

Nick had always raised her up. Even when she’d questioned him, even when she’d disagreed with him, he’d given her somewhere to stand and something to protect.

_What do you want? Only what you’ve always wanted._

“Is that why you’re taking the world security job?”

“Someone has to do it. And,” she added wryly, “I think there might be a revolt if I give way to Thunderbolt Ross.”

“And the child? You’re keeping it?”

“Yes, I’m keeping it.” Her child. _Their_ child. She’d deal with Steve as she had to and whatever and whoever else might come with him. She was a grown woman; she could do this.

“All right, then.” Steve turned to face her, and his voice was firm and resolved. “I want to be involved. With the pregnancy, with my child. I’m _going_ to be involved if you’re taking the job, Maria, you won’t be able keep me away.”

He spoke calmly, like it was already decided. Knowing Steve, it was.

“You should probably discuss this...” Maria paused and thought about how to phrase this. “It’s been over a year for you since we conceived. Anyone you’ve become involved with in the last year – the _other_ last year – will probably want a say in this. And, I’d like to know who else – if anyone – will be involved in my son or daughter’s life—”

The look on his face was arresting.

“Are you asking if there’s been anyone else?”

“It’s been a year—” Maria stopped as his jaw set.

“It took me six months to even think of approaching you after you stopped working with the Avengers,” he said quietly. “A year after that to make a move. Bucky once said that glaciers move faster than I do when it comes to women. And you think that there's been anyone else in that time?”

“It was a crisis,” she said. “People become close in adversity. And we'd broken up months ago.”

“Nine weeks,” he said evenly. “68 days. Yes, I counted.”

“Why?”

“Because I was stinging. Fury called you and you just up and went, no questions asked. I could barely get you to text me, and all it took from him was a single call.”

_Every time I called you..._

She had no defence against that.

Steve took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Nat told me I was being an idiot; that Fury had earned your loyalty long before I came on the scene.”

“She was right.”

“Yes, but I didn't want to hear it.” His smile was pained. “We argued – it was a point of contention in the middle of everything else. We'd only just reconciled before Strange came through and demanded we come with him to Thanos’ planet...”

“And then I pulled the plug and left you all to die.”

“You had a reason,” he said. “ _Remember the helicarriers._ And we survived – mostly thanks to Carol, who went nova – but it was rough.”

“You became friends.”

“Friends,” he said pointedly. “Not lovers.”

“I didn't—”

“There's been no-one else for me,” he said flatly. “And I still...Maria, I want this child. I never thought I'd father children – so I want...I want this one. I want to _be_ its father...”

“Which you've said.”

“Yes...” Steve sighed. “Maria, I want you, too.” There was a tightness around his eyes as he glanced out over the battlefield again, then seemed to force himself to look at her. “I want us to be a couple – and not just because I'm the father, but because you want me.” The bitter twist to his mouth seemed uncharacteristic, but then, he'd been through an entire year without her. “I know it's a big ask, but...I'd like a second chance.”

Maria stared at him in silence, while the distant voices of the clean-up crews coming out onto the battlefield rose up to them on the wind.

“You're not obligated to say yes,” he said quietly. “We can negotiate co-parenting if that's all you have for me—”

“I don't...I don’t know what I have for you.” Maria let out a long breath. Everything was...confusing inside her. Was it the pregnancy and all the hormones in her? Was it the rush and struggle of the last few days? She didn’t know and she needed the time to parse it before she could give him a straight answer. “It’s been... There’s a lot that I need to deal with, Steve. Not least the pregnancy and the child and the job...”

“Should I be glad our child came before you listed the job?”

She glared at him, and watched his mouth curve. But there was a serious side to this.

“Can you deal with the needs of the job sometimes coming before the absolute safety of our child? I won’t put us in excessive danger, but I won’t let you – or anyone else – wrap me in cotton wool, either.”

It needed asking, and it needed asking now. Even with whatever stuff the Wakandan had regarding women in the workforce, it would be a slow change of culture and way of thinking in anything that was dominated by American men. And Maria didn’t quite like her chances with Steve, Tony, Rhodey, and Sam likely to gang up on her – not to mention God only knew who else.

“I can deal with it,” he retorted. “Sometimes. So long as you’re open to negotiation.”

“So long as you’re open to times when I’m not.”

“Deal.” He stuck out his hand.

Maria took it, shook it. Then froze as he tugged her in, exerting a pressure gentle enough that she could break free of his grip if she wanted. He leaned in and brushed his lips against her cheek again, and this time it was definitely a caress.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he murmured. “I... I’ve missed you, Maria.”

“It’s good to _be_ back,” she managed, turning her head so her cheek brushed more firmly against his. “And...”

“And?”

“I’m not sorry about the child, Steve. I wish the circumstances were better, but...I’m not sorry.”

He turned his head a little more, and Maria wanted so badly to just lean into him, but—

He’d shifted, stepping in so his body weight shifted and his arm could move around—

She stopped. Put up her hands. Pushed lightly against his chest.

It was the slightest of resistances, but Steve stopped leaning in, and didn’t reach for her as she stepped back. Then she gave him a hard look and watched his smile grow – the slow and knowing one that she hadn’t realized he’d had until they’d been together a few months.

He was more than capable of seducing her over time – after all, wasn’t that how they’d ended up in bed together in the first place?

And she was more than susceptible to being seduced by him – well, wasn’t that how she’d ended up pregnant?

“Is that your idea of negotiations?”

“Think of it as an opening salvo,” he said, lightly, and his fingers sketched down her cheek before he lowered it to indicate she should precede him down the hill on their way back. “I’ll leave it to you to work out when I’m actually waging the war.”


	26. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonography:  
>  _Woad To Ruin_ by London Music Works

The last time Maria had seen the upstate Avengers facility, it had looked...rather less busy than this.

“Well, they’ve certainly been productive,” she murmured as the chopper circled the facility, giving them a good look at the trimmed-back exercise areas, and the live-fire range. The tarmac looked freshly painted, the building looked freshly cleaned, and someone had planted begonias along the southern line of the downstairs patio.

“You’d be amazed at what the Wakandans can put together on short notice,” Barnes remarked as the pilot took them down. “Also, looks like someone’s recently had a fight. Hulk, maybe?”

The great furrow of dirt ploughing deeply into the field suggested that someone had felt the need for an urgent throwdown. The fact that Maria was now being surprised by it suggested that it was recent enough that neither Steve, nor Rhodey, nor Tony, nor Nat had felt it warranted her immediate attention while she was in transit from Birnan Zana over to upstate New York.

“Banner’s supposed to be up north,” she said, frowning a little as she looked over to where it looked like a few people were assembling on the helipad. “What’s this?”

“Looks like a greeting party,” the Wakandan pilot commented with a smirk. “They roll out the red carpet, everyone claps. That’s how it goes here in America, yes?”

“When you’re someone important,” Maria said dryly. “It’s not like any of the Avengers haven’t already met me before. And I’m hardly the President.”

Who had apparently made an unscheduled visit to the facility late last night, just because.

 _She’s actually quite charismatic in person,_ Nat had said over the communications link just after the President had left. _Which you don’t really expect, even from the interviews and newsclips._

 _Well,_ Barnes had drawled, _we can’t all be pretty faces, now, can we?_

Nat had spent the next five minutes asking pointed questions about Maria’s pregnancy, how she felt, and whether she’d experienced any number of random symptoms yet. If her object had been to discompose Barnes, it hadn’t worked. He’d dropped back out of view of the camera and just smirked.

Seriously, Maria didn’t want to know what was happening there.

The pilot put them down on the helipad, and Barnes pushed open the door and turned, his hand out to help her down.

“I’m pregnant, not incapable,” Maria reminded him.

“And I’m being courteous, not condescending,” he retorted. “It won’t kill you to be handed out of a chopper, Hill. But if you lose your balance on the way out again, then Steve might kill me for not taking better care of you.”

“Like it’s your responsibility,” she muttered, but took the hand.

“He told me to keep an eye on his girl,” Bucky said. “That’s what I’m doing.”

Maria sighed. It wasn’t that ‘negotiations’ had broken down, just that it was difficult to draw lines and define acceptable parameters of care when everyone was intent on making sure she and the baby were ‘okay’. In the end, the Dora Milaje had laid down the rules – both to Maria and to the people who seemed intent on taking care of her – and things had eased back. It had helped that T’Challa had also offered his sister and several other workers and warriors’ assistance at the facility, as well as a lift back to America now that their pardons were official, and the Avengers had taken him up on it.

Maria had stayed behind for a series of tests which had been put off until after the Avengers were gone to give her a little breathing space, while Barnes had stayed behind to go through some kind of...simulator that was supposed to help him work through his history.

And Steve had apparently set him to keep an eye on her.

They needed to talk.

She’d add it to the list, right behind, _Talk to Peter Parker about his conversations with Shuri, and ask them both not to conspire to have all my technology automatically turn off between 10pm and 6am._

And there was Steve now, clean-shaven again, his gaze sweeping over her, as though she might have significantly changed size in the last few days—

“Steve.”

“Bucky.”

They pulled each other into a pounding hug. Steve tilted an eyebrow, and Bucky smirked. “Still in one piece. And I brought you your girl.”

“Technically H’Rambi brought us both,” Maria informed him. Then realized that she hadn’t argued the part about being ‘his girl’when Steve grinned.

They were definitely going to have words.

“Hey,” he said, his smile soft and lurching in the pit of her stomach. “How are you?”

“We’re fine.”

“Everything checked out?”

“I forwarded the report on to you while we were in the air.”

“Okay. I’ll get to it later, although I’d like to hear the details from you, since I couldn’t be there. Before dinner?” The expression was perfectly polite, but also quite inexorable. He wasn’t backing away from being involved with the pregnancy, and certainly nobody was trying to dissuade him. In fact, Maria suspected more than a few people were encouraging him on this – some of them not so quietly.

“With dinner to follow, I imagine,” she said.

“Of course.”

“I said that everything was fine, didn’t I?” But she sighed. Sometimes Maria didn’t know why she was trying to resist him. “All right. Before dinner.”

“So,” Bucky said, thankfully keeping Steve’s grin in check, “we heard you guys had a visitor last night.”

Steve’s grin tightened. “Actually, we had _two_ visitors...” He turned towards the door to the facility, stepping aside so Maria could see the woman who was standing next to Rhodey at the edge of the helipad.

She’d seen the photo – both the ones in the file and the ones in Fury’s personal effects. But Carol Danvers was shorter than Maria expected – pretty much Maria’s height, just built stockier, with a more athletic build. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a brisk ponytail, showing a strong, square jaw over a frank gaze. She’d been a combat-rated pilot, Maria recalled from her recent research, in a time when the Air Force didn’t do female pilots in combat, and she looked _young_. Although she was probably Rhodey’s age, she looked more like Maria’s age, perhaps even younger.

Or maybe she was just no older than she’d been when she left Earth.

Also, she looked faintly amused as she looked at Maria.

“You sound like someone I know.”

“Nick?”

“ _Nick_?” Danvers’ eyes widened. She tilted her head as though intrigued. “No, my best friend. She was a Maria, too.” She held out a hand – long-fingered and square. “Carol Danvers.”

“Maria Hill.”

They shook hands – dry palm, firm grip. And Danvers looked her in the eye. “They tell me you’re the one who woke us up from the nightmare Thanos had us in.”

“I had...some help.”

Danvers nodded. “They also tell me that you’re looking for people for this thing Fury started called the ‘Avenger’ Initiative.”

Did she know where the name had come from? Probably.

She’d appreciate what was coming next, then.

“Not quite. The Avenger Initiative was intended to be a first response team to an alien threat against Earth. It did well enough while we were isolated and largely left alone by the rest of the galaxy. But now that Asgard’s no longer in power, we’re going to need something a little different – less ‘sit back and wait for them to find us’ and more ‘look for the threat so we can see it before it turns up on our doorstep’. Something that will take Earth into the galaxy, now that we’re no longer segregated away. A team of...first defenders.”

“Uhuh.” Danvers look intrigued by the idea. “And do you have a name for this team of ‘first defenders’?”

Maria smiled. “The Furies.”

**end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, first things first. Thank you so much for coming all the way to the end of this story with me - I've really appreciated those of who you've stuck in there through this behemoth of a story!
> 
> Premium thanks go to my betas - SalazaraStark, NotATameLion, AndVeryGinger, Geckoholic, and KrisA for slogging through my words and my angst and my words and my oh lordy you've rewritten that part _again_?
> 
> Special thanks go to my friends on LJ and DW who were all the encouragement back when I was thinking nobody was going to read this thing and spent six months bashing my head against Part Two, only to realise that what it actually needed was Nick's POV.
> 
> The two theories that I heavily referenced are [What If The Infinity Stones Are Like The Elder Wand](http://tielan.tumblr.com/post/173533119102/kirabauthor-avengers-4-theory-i-was-thinking) and [Jane Foster: Ego's daughter](http://allofthefeelings.tumblr.com/post/176248766775/okay-but-ego-was-super-impressed-about-hearing). The story was plotted out with the Elder Wand Theory in mind, but one of my betas brought up Ego's Daughter after I'd finished the story, and I had to go back and edit in that section. At the same time, I discovered that, quite hilariously, I'd originally written Jane as wishing for her life to 'go back to normal' when all this was done, and, uh, I stuck her with the Reality stone. Sorry, Jane. No back to normal! Discoveries of the universe for you, instead!
> 
> There was going to be a joke about Thor and Valkyrie teaming up to protect the universe from the scum of the galaxy, but it simply didn't pan out given where I'd led Thor's story.
> 
> At some point I may put up a post with many more of my thoughts about this fic, if so, you'll find it on [my tumblr](http://tielan.tumblr.com/), likely tagged with 'other side of infinity'.
> 
> Finally, thank you to all who've made the journey with me through my time in MCU. There will probably be a few bits and pieces after Endgame, but shy of 'Maria saves the universe and hooks up with Steve', I'm pretty sure I'm out.
> 
> Closing Sonography:  
>  _The Avengers_ by Alan Silvestri  
>  _Believer_ by Imagine Dragons  
>  _4 Minutes_ by Justin Timberlake/Madonna  
>  _Miz Hyde_ by Halestorm  
>  _Pegasus_ by Thomas Bergersen


End file.
